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by WriteOnForever
Summary: When he was younger, he thought being a hero must've been easy. Now, he's realizing he was wrong.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This follows the _Comfort_ timeline. It'll be a series of one-shots of Cam adjusting to life as a hero.

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to those who created them. Fun fact, I didn't create them.

Therapy

"I'm here to talk about Artemis?" The words are out of his mouth as soon as he steps into the room. He wants this over quickly, and the best way for this to happen is if he simply accepts the situation.

Dinah watches him as he takes a seat across from her. "We can talk about whatever you want."

"But the reason these sessions are going on is because of what happened to her." Setting the boundaries. He'll talk about the rape, but nothing more. That needs to be clear.

She nods, holding her hands in her lap. "Whenever you're ready."

He's rehearsed what he was going to say, a simple chronological chain of emotions throughout the course of the previous month. Now, though, the words won't come because there is an audience. His mentor. Maybe that's what really freaks him out. If he told her this, she wouldn't make him talk to her, he's sure of that. He's also sure she'd make him talk to a real psychiatrist, and that alternative is far worse than the one he is facing right now.

"When I first walked into that warehouse, I had no idea what was going on," he explains, studying the floor. "I couldn't tell, at first, but then I realized what Terror was doing. And it disgusted me, that someone could do that. And then he _offered _her to me, like she was some thing he didn't want any more, and I flipped."

"You flipped?"

"Not like the second time," he murmurs. "Enough to knock him out."

"Did you know the girl was Artemis?"

"Not then. I asked if she wanted me to help her, or to get help, and then she said my name and I knew it was her."

"Just from her saying your name?"

"Yes."

Of course he knew it was her. It was the voice from his childhood, the one with gentle words and soothing promises, the only one who called him by his real name.

"What happened then?"

"I undid the chains, held her while she cried." He shifts uncomfortably, refusing to mention that he saw her, for the briefest moment, naked, because the memory of her being so vulnerable and exposed still terrifies him. "Then she asked me to join up with the heroes, and I said yes."

"Just like that?"

"I've never been good at being a villain. I don't like hurting people. And I figured, this would probably be my only chance out, and I couldn't abandon her, either."

"Even though she was a hero and tricked you into giving information about the jailbreak?"

"Well, that hurt, for sure, but that was the last thing on my mind at the moment. Besides, she was doing her job. She'd gotten out and was doing what she had to do."

"So you had no grudges?"

His mind wanders back to Belle Reve, sitting in the empty cell, tenderly touching the fresh bruises that encased his body, wishing Artemis had been sentenced there. At least he would have had one person on his side, even if separated by that glass wall. It was only a few days later when he saw her on the news, a brief snippet about some fight in his home city, and it left him numb and aching and betrayed, staring at his best friend, his _only _friend, on the opposing side.

This, of course, is not related to the rape.

"No. She was just doing what she had to do."

"Were you surprised she didn't want to tell anyone what happened?"

"Yeah. I mean, kinda. I'd figured she'd at least tell her mom, but I knew she'd handle it on her own time." He allows himself a smirk. "No one can make her do anything she doesn't want."

There is silence, as though Dinah is waiting for him to elaborate. He doesn't, having said all that was necessary on the matter, and she prompts him again: "Was it difficult, being the only one who knew? Carrying that burden by yourself?"

"She was the one who was raped. She was the only one carrying any burden."

"It didn't affect you?"

"Well, sure it affected me, but nothing major." He keeps it to himself all the nights he went without sleep, thoughts consumed with worry over how Artemis was. The overwhelming fits of rage that would find him, or the all-consuming sorrow that would engulf him, go unmentioned as well. The guilt, the one that gnawed him for getting backtracked, for being too late, remains buried, deep inside. He's not much of a talker. It was how he was raised, and breaking the habit is not on his list of Things to Do.

"What happened that night?" Dinah's catching on. She's trying to make this as painless as possible by jumping to a major event, bypassing the feelings he's locked away.

"When she told us on the mind link that Terror had her, I was scared and pissed and panicking all at once. And when I found them and he was straddling her, I just…I just lost control." Before he has time to contemplate the repercussions, he continues, "I shouldn't feel guilty, doing what I did to him. After what he put Artemis through, he deserved it. But I can't help it. I don't want to be like my dad. I don't want to be able to do that to people. I don't want to be a monster."

"Monster," Dinah repeats softly. "That's an interesting choice of words."

"No it's not," he says, too quickly as he remembers that Dinah was still in the arena the day he told the Team about his mom.

"Cam—"

"I'm not talking about her," he states stubbornly.

"You need to."

"No, I don't," he insists, bringing his knees up to his chest. "She's nothing to me."

"What she put you through has affected you, whether you want to admit it or not. And that's okay. But trying to shove the pain away…that's not healthy. Please, Cameron."

Her voice fades as he sinks beneath the waves of his unconscious. He's not Cameron, not Cam, just _boy_. She's mad again, yelling at him, calling him those mean words that echo over and over when he tries to sleep at night. He wants to beg her to stop and promise he'll never use his powers again, not even by accident, but that will only make things worse. He doesn't understand why she doesn't love him, why she won't let him call her Mommy or Mom, why she thinks he's a mistake. All he understands is that he still loves her and wants to make her happy, so he lets her scream, nodding in agreement because if she says it so often, all those things must be true…

"Cam? Cam?" He resurfaces, blinking away the past. He's still in that room but Dinah's in front of him now, hands on his shoulder, eyes sad. "It's okay. We don't have to talk about her. You can go."

He owes her an explanation, something, _anything_, but he just nods weakly and leaves, heading for his room. Curling up on his bed, he falls asleep and dreams of the ocean, of a strong undercurrent trying to drag him down, an undercurrent he always knew was there but had come to believe he was stronger than.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: If you recognize them, I don't own them.

Interview

He knew it was going to happen sooner or later. After all, he's gone from terrorizing Star City to defending it. What he had expected to happen, though, is nothing like the reality. Instead of being requested to have an interview, allowing himself time to prepare, he's ambushed by Kat Grant after stopping a turf war. How does this woman seem to be _everywhere_?

"Kat Grant reporting live from Star City, here with new hero Ice."

Dinah steps forward, between him and the reporter. "This really isn't a good time," she states, and Cam thinks he can detect just the slightest bit of an edge to her words.

The smile remains plastered to the woman's face, and he can't tell if she's actually this happy or if it's a force of habit due to her line of work. "I'm sure everyone wants to know how someone could go from super villain to superhero." Focusing on him, she asks, "You previously worked under the alias of Icicle Junior, correct?"

He's tempted to say, "No, I'm actually his long-lost twin brother," but decides against it. Somehow he doubts sarcasm will boost his reputation, so he says simply, "Yes."

"Tell us, what made you change sides?"

"Um, I was never really good at being a villain?" he offers weakly, wondering how many from the bridge he almost destroyed would beg to differ. "And I don't like hurting people."

She nods overenthusiastically, as though this is the most interesting thing she's ever heard in her life. "And yet you were still a villain for several years of your life. Care to explain?"

Narrowing her eyes, Dinah starts, "Look, he doesn't—"

"It's alright," he assures her. He wants to explain himself, offer some sort of reason for doing what he's done. Speaking to Kat, he continues, "I was trained by my dad. It's been the only life I've known since I was eight. I never had much of an opportunity to get out. Then, with the last Belle Reve escape, I saw my chance."

"Just like that?" The smile doesn't appear so genuine anymore. There is impatience in her voice, the story clearly not as exciting as she'd hoped.

"Just like that." There is no way he's selling out Artemis. He has no right to even mention anything about her, and if people don't accept this portrayal of what happened, that's fine with him.

"And you were embraced so willingly by the Justice League?" That seems to be a dig at Dinah, who clenches her fists in response.

"Well, they weren't like, 'Oh, cool, you're not really evil? You can totally join!' I had to prove myself. I gave over the whole breakout plan, plus the locations of everyone in the prison."

That struck her interest. "You betrayed an _entire _prison of the most _dangerous _people on Earth?"

"I guess," he squeaks, not liking where this conversation is about to go.

"With absolutely no fear of retribution?"

Oh, there was plenty of fear of retribution. It had clawed constantly at the back of his mind, struggling to invade all of his thoughts, and now that Artemis was doing better, that's exactly what was happening. As soon as he'd reported his knowledge to Green Arrow and Batman, he knew he was in trouble. Those in Belle Reve were not his friends. After the first jailbreak, most hated him. He was a bottom-rung villain, known only for being Icicle's disappointing son. The sole reason he had come out considerably okay from the incident was because of his father—even though Icicle was thoroughly infuriated for his failure, he wouldn't let the others destroy him.

This time around… he'd _purposely _sold them out. He was the actual cause for their re-imprisonment. Those who hadn't hated him before must hate him now, and he couldn't depend on his dad anymore; after this, his dad would probably be the one to try and kill him, not only for the betrayal but for making him look bad.

More times than he would have like, he's entertained the thought of what would happen to him the day some of those criminals got out. These people are hardened, lacking most, if not all, morals. Spending years in a cage with a collar around their necks surely didn't help matters. Semi-protected due to his family ties to the capo, he had witnessed the true brutality of prison. Broken bones, shattered rips, collapsed lungs. There was worse, too, a different kind of physical attack, a different kind of pain. He'd never seen it, but he'd heard it, and that was enough. And he knows that he has to be careful, has to watch his back _every single second_, because he will become a victim as soon as they can lay their hands on him.

He can't say any of this in front of the camera. That certainly won't help his image. Instead, he smiles, one that rivals even hers, and claims, "I'll be fine. I can handle myself. Plus I have friends to help me out."

"The other sidekicks?"

"Protégés," Dinah corrects. "Protégés."

Kat continues as though the woman in black never spoke: "If you ever have to face your father, what will you do?"

"Win," he blurts out, blindsided by the question.

"You'd be willing to fight him? Injure him?"

It's a test, a search to see where his true loyalties lie. The obvious answer is yes, but he can't quite form that simple word.

"I would do what I had to do," he finally admits. "But nothing more."

"Because he is your father?" There's a look in her eye, something he thinks the Spanish Inquisitors must have had.

"Yes." A dangerous offering but one he cannot deny. His dad will always be his dad, and he owes him something just for that.

Before Kat can jump on him, Dinah firmly declares, "That's enough for right now."

They turn to go, but not before Kat calls, "Do you have one last thing to say, Ice?"

For a second, he contemplates flashing a grin at the camera and saying, "Hi, Dad." There is no question that the prisoners are watching this right now—they have some warped obsession with following the heroes, and if that's not enough, he the traitor is on. However, he knows he cannot do this. Prison is a dangerous place, where any form of power is desperately sought. At the moment, his dad has the ultimate position, but that is not set in stone. Two failed outbreaks, both, in some way or form, brought on by his son, will not be sitting well with the others. They will battle for the title of capo, and it scares him because his dad is not as young or as strong as the others, and there is a possibility that he will lose. Losing either means he is dead (because the guards don't care at all) or a future victim. He cannot risk giving the other inmates any more of a reason to target his father because, when it all comes down to it, he'd been keeping him as safe as he could for years, and he was owed that in return.

Cam slowly faces the camera. "I'll do whatever I can to keep people safe."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I still do not own this show.

Conflicted

"He's an idiot."

Those are the first words out of his mouth as soon as Artemis and Wally leave the room. A tactful approach, a diplomatic stance, would have probably been the better route, but he can't fully control the angry burning inside of him.

"Why?" Dinah asks calmly.

"Why?" he demands. "Artemis is my best friend and that moron has no idea what he's doing!"

"Because he thought taking their relationship farther was a good idea?"

"Uh, duh. She clearly wasn't ready for it."

"Weren't you the one who told me that no one could make Artemis do anything she didn't want to do?"

"This is different."

"How?"

"Because Wally had already set the whole thing up, and if she said no, he'd get upset. And that would only get her upset."

"So you don't think she, in any way, wanted to do this?"

"I'm not saying that. I think she did, if only to prove to herself that Terror can't control her anymore. But that doesn't mean she was ready to do it. If she really, honest to God wanted to go farther with Wally, she would have been the one to say that. And she _should_ be the one who makes these decisions, after all she's been through. Wally has no right to influence her about stuff like this."

"You seem more upset about this than she is."

"I'm not upset—I'm pissed off."

"Why does this anger you so much?"

"Because he should be telling her how much he loves her, how much she matters to him. He should be treating her like a fricking princess and doing whatever he can for her. She'd just been hurt by a guy who only saw her for her body and Wally doesn't see anything wrong with advancing the physical aspect of their relationship? He's thinking about himself, not her."

"Maybe he's thinking about both of them."

Shaking his head, he objects, "After all she's been through, he should only think about her."

"Is that what you did?"

How exactly did this come back to him?

"What?"

"You were the only one who knew about the rape for a while. During that time, did you only think of Artemis?"

"I had to. She had to know that someone had her back. She couldn't go through it alone."

"You'd just completely changed your life, turned your back on your family, and became a hero. That couldn't have been easy, either."

"Not the same thing. Not even close. Look, Artemis needed me, and I was there for her. Now that Wally knows, he needs to be there for her. That means doing everything he can to make her feel okay and not listening to his stupid hormones."

"You think that's all it was?"

Part of him wants to say yes, but portraying Wally in such a way is too much of a lie. "No. I know he cares about her, I can tell. But he went about this the wrong way. He should have waited."

"Is that what you would have done, if you were in his position?"

"Of course. I'd wait forever for her."

"Just for her?"

Sensing danger, he clarifies, "For any girl I cared about."

"Do you think you're being too hard on him? You know more about this situation than he does—Artemis has told you a lot."

"Doesn't matter. It should be obvious. She'd been raped; she'd been used, hurt, objectified. She needs to know that he cares about her for who she is, not how she looks. She is more than just something he can play with; she's compassionate and smart and funny and brave and so many other things and she needs to know that those things are so much more important than her looks. What he should be doing is convincing her to confide in him, holding her when she cries or listening when she needs to vent or just being there to let her know that she's safe because Terror isn't going to hurt her anymore."

The words fly out of his mouth, seemingly beyond his control. Too much information. Dinah will pick up on that.

"Like you did?"

There's a subtle, barely detectable change in her voice as she starts shifting from therapist to mentor. That is not a good sign. Not at all.

Shrugging nonchalantly, desperate to maintain composure, he replies, "I did what I had to do as her best friend."

"Best friend," Dinah repeats. "It's interesting—in a situation like this, most people would compare the relationship to that of a brother and sister."

"Well, I'm not most people."

"Or is it because being in love with your sister would be weird?"

"Um, I'm ninety-seven-and-a-half percent sure brothers love their sisters."

"You know what kind of love I mean." Tilting her head to the side, as though viewing him from a different angle will prove beneficial to understanding him, she gently asks, "Are you in love with Artemis?"

Yes. It's the simple, heartbreaking truth. He loves her, has loved her since the day they first met. She was the light in the darkness, the hope he had for a better future. She was golden and pure, bearing her father's looks but not his ideas. Around her, he wasn't _boy_, wasn't _Junior_; he was Cam. He was more than just his father's son, more than a screw-up. The greatest moments of his childhood come from the times he was with her. Playing while waiting for their dads to return. Laughing about stupid things. Swearing to find a way out, any way out, of this life. Cradling each other when the pain was too intense, inspecting bruises and cuts, whispering gentle words when the world was cruel and foreboding.

He'd proposed to her once, jokingly, weaving a buttercup into a ring. With an airy laugh, she accepted it, saying that maybe happily ever after was possible. He clung to that memory, to those memories, to remind himself that there was still good in the world. They flashed constantly once Icicle and Sportsmaster cut interactions after a too-close call, once the light started flickering and fading. After waiting for weeks, months, to see her again, he gave up. And then she reappeared, a little older, definitely more feminine, and he couldn't believe it took him so long to remember her. He was so ecstatic that he gave away too much information about the break, only to learn that she'd fulfilled the promises they'd always made. His second chance with her was shattered.

It was only by fate, twisted, vicious fate, that gave him a third chance. The circumstances were awful, true, but he was determined to be all that she needed and to give her that happily ever after she deserved. And then he realized she'd been swept off her feet by another, a true hero, one more worthy of her than he ever would be. That's why he holds the emotions in, locked away tightly, never to see the world, because it's too difficult to accept that the only girl he'll ever love has a boyfriend.

Unable, unwilling, to admit the truth, he offers, "She loves Wally and he loves her. That's all that matters."

Somehow, that's all Dinah needs to hear. Her eyes softening, she comes before him and crushes him in a hug, whispering, "Oh, Cam."

He says nothing. There is nothing to say, nothing to stop the onslaught of pain.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing, nothing I say!

Hate

He doesn't expect everyone to like him.

Even though he's reformed, some people will only ever see a criminal, a villain. Nothing he does will ever atone for the time he spent under his dad's influence. He understands.

Understanding, however, doesn't make it any easier.

The hostages he was sent to help are glaring at him, seeming to prefer being held captive to being saved by him. Time is of the essence—Black Canary's fighting the goons, but she's heavily outnumbered and he has to get to her—yet he has no way of getting them out.

"Please, come on. It's not safe," he insists desperately.

The one man just rubs at his wrists—freed from chains courtesy of the meta-human—and spits, "We're not going anywhere with you."

A canary cry erupts from somewhere down the hallway. A woman, in her mid-forties, says, "We'll wait for the real hero."

He groans to himself. Either these are the six stupidest people on the face of the Earth or they really have no idea how dire the situation is.

"Look, the nut-case who kidnapped you? He harvests organs for the black market. He will _kill you _and take your organs if you don't get out. Black Canary is fighting him and his lackeys and she needs help, but I can't do that until you're all safe. So if you would just _please_—"

"Go help her," an older man barks, sitting down on the floor. "We can wait for her."

The others signal their support by taking a seat as well, holding their heads high as though standing for their principals.

"Really?" he demands, flabbergasted. "You seriously…you know what, fine!"

Swallowing his anger, he runs off in the direction of the fray. Five guys are unconscious on the floor, but seven more, including the good doctor himself, are circling the heroine, whipping chains or holding knives. Playing smart, he launches a string of icicles, effectively knocking down three guys. The others turn to the newest threat, giving Canary the opportunity to take down one with an uppercut. Two of the guys realize they don't stand a chance and drop to their knees, but the doctor makes a desperate break for the exit. Not in the mood, Cam creates a small, solid ball of ice and launches it at the back of his head. He drops the floor.

"Thanks for the backup," Canary tells him, tying the conscious thugs together. "Though you could have been a little faster."

She's teasing him, but he can't find it in himself to respond in a similar manner. "They wouldn't leave," he all but growls.

"What?"

"They wouldn't go with me—they said they'll only leave with you."

Her face is void of emotion, but he can't tell if that's a good thing or a bad thing. Wordlessly, she heads for the room where the hostages are.

"Black Canary," the older man greets with a polite nod of his head. "Thank you for saving us."

"I didn't do it by myself," she protests, gesturing to her protégé. "Is there any reason you wouldn't leave with Ice?"

They look at one another, silently designating a speaker of the group. The woman from earlier is chosen, getting to her feet and explaining, "We don't trust him."

"Why?" Her voice is harsh, demanding.

"He's a criminal," another man snarls.

Canary narrows her eyes. "_Was _a criminal. And he was forced to do those things. Now he's turned his life around."

"Please." A new man, middle-aged with a beer gut, continues, "You can't change people like him. Just because the Justice League wants to make some point doesn't mean anything."

"What do you mean, make a point? Ice came by his own free will to become a hero."

"Oh, really? He wasn't caught and sold out the others' to save himself? You Leaguers didn't decide that "reforming" him would be a fun little pet project?"

"No, he wasn't. And no, we didn't." She's annoyed, struggling to keep it together. "And even when he was a villain, he had one of the smallest records in the database."

"Then how come it's sealed?" The older man looks triumphant. "What don't you want the public to know?"

"It's sealed to protect his identity," she explains. "And it doesn't even matter—once he's eighteen, it'll be expunged anyway."

"How wonderful, the law being used to help the villains," sneers an elderly woman.

"I'm not a villain," Cam objects pleadingly.

"Do you know how much damage you caused on the Fourth of July?" The last person finally speaks, a woman around Dinah's age. "How many people you hurt?"

He opens his mouth, but he cannot formulate an intelligent response. Lowering his head, he admits, "No."

"Of course not." Contempt defiles each word. "Because you don't really care, do you? You're nothing but a monster trying to make yourself feel better. You will _never _be a true hero."

Dinah is livid. "Let's go." She grabs his arm and turns away from the former captives.

"What are you _doing_?" one of them shrieks. "You can't just leave us!"

"You have legs; you are perfectly capable of walking out of here yourself."

Ignoring their indignant cries, she continues her march out of the run-down hospital, still holding on to his arm. Neither speak, for nothing can possibly be said.

"See you tomorrow," he tells her as they near the street with the zeta-beam transporter. Even in his own ears, his voice seems fragile.

"It's late, Cam. Just stay over. I have plenty of extra rooms."

He nods, agreeing only because debating the issue will take too much time and energy. Under the pure black sky they walk, each consumed with their own thoughts. Glancing heavenward, Cam realizes just how many stars stud the universe, slivers of light. It must be nice, to envelope themselves in the darkness, pinpricks in the nothingness, left alone from the world.

When they get to her house, Dinah says, "Bathroom's down the hall—extra toothbrushes are under the cabinet. You can have the guest room down this way."

"Thanks," he murmurs, shifting to normalcy and quickly moving to clean himself up in hopes of avoiding a talk with her. He is not up to being psychoanalyzed right now.

Of course, being a therapist, she cannot let the matter go. He's just crawled into bed when she gently knocks on the door. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," he says, lying down, trying to look as tired as possible.

"Are you alright?" she asks, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Fine."

"Cam, those people… you shouldn't listen to them. If they are so stubborn and arrogant as to not see beyond your past, that is their own problem."

"They would rather die than have me save them. How can I possibly be a hero?"

"You _are _a hero. Put what they said out of your mind. You are not a monster, okay? You are nothing even close to that. You are a good person who is doing everything he can to help people. And if they can't see that, they're pathetic." Tenderly, she runs her fingers through his hair. "Please, Cam, believe me when I say you are one of the kindest, most compassionate people I know."

"I do." He offers her a small smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now sleep tight."

She stands and leaves, and the smile falls from his face. Even with her soothing words, the sting of the encounter is still strong. Maybe he isn't good enough to be a hero; maybe he never will be. The thought makes him feel so very, very small, as though he's eight years old again, listening to his mom and dad debate about who has to raise him.

His communicator suddenly goes off. Without hesitation, he reaches for it. Artemis needs him. She needs _him_.

Suddenly, he doesn't feel so small anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nope.

Future

The words are dancing in front of his eyes, blurring together and becoming even more nonsensical. Shaking his head, accepting defeat, he pushes the chemistry book across his bed and lies on his back, staring at the ceiling. He's been thinking too much, fears and emotions and _what might happen_ running through his mind. Studying has proved useless, and there is not much else to do at the Cave. Wolf, being more feline than canine, has been content not moving all day, so doing anything with him is out of the question. Megan and Connor are at after school activities, and Zatanna, though a resident of the Cave, spends every waking moment in New York City. Briefly, he contemplates asking Dinah to spar with him, but he knows that Artemis's therapy session starts soon; besides, he doubts he would be capable of fighting at the moment, which would no doubt lead to Dinah playing therapist, and his brain just cannot take any more prodding at the moment.

Heaving a sigh, he stands, stretches, and makes an impulse decision, leaving the Cave and heading for the playground he and Artemis had visited. The walk is quick, with few people out at this time in the afternoon, and he finds the playground all to himself. With a running start, he catapults himself onto one of the swings. Breathing in the crisp, fresh air, he kicks his legs off the ground, relishing the rush of flying. He's free, thinking of nothing but keeping himself in the sky.

"Hey, mista?"

The voice causes him to open his eyes and let his legs go limp. A group of eight children are watching him, far enough so he can't accidently hit them but close enough to see that they're all between the ages of six and eight. The only exception is the boy who spoke, being slightly older than the others, possibly nine or ten.

"Mista?" he repeats, and Cam brings himself to a full stop.

"Yeah?"

"I gots a question for you," he says hesitantly, stepping forward. His friends remain in their places, watching.

"Shoot."

"Well, sees, we were walking up and we saw you and we noticed that, well, you look kinda purplish. And we didn't know if we were seeing stuff or whatever, so we came to ask you." Raising his head, he nods fervently. "Yeah, you's purple, all right."

"Told you," the one girl murmurs, sticking her tongue at him.

Ignoring her, he stares at the teen, a mix of disbelief and awe. "How comes you purple, mista?"

Cam can't help but smile—the way this kid talks is adorable. "What, you've never seen someone like me before."

"No way," the girl says quickly, shaking her head.

"He was talking to _me_, Cassie," the boy tells her.

"I can talk _too_, Michael!"

Raising his hands for peace, Cam intervenes, "Before I tell you guys anything, how about we get to know each other? I'm Cam."

"I'm Michael," the leader reiterates. "But I like to be called Mikey. Cassie's my little sister. Them is our friends—Lenny, James, Peter, Jennifer, Ashley, and Sarah."

"Are you guys here all by yourself?"

"We comes here every day after school," Mikey explains. "Our school's just a walk down that path there, and we're all from the same neighborhood, so we just wait here till our moms get us."

Being the responsible one is not necessarily in his nature, but in this situation, he has no other option. "You know, guys, it's not safe to talk to strangers."

"Oh, we know that," Sarah assures him. "If someone ever asks us to get in a car with them, or tries to give us candy, or to find their lost dog, we scream and run away."

"Or we kick them," Peter says solemnly.

"But you came up to me."

"That's different," Jennifer protests. "There are more of us. Besides, you were on the swings, so you're a kid. Other kids aren't strangers."

He likes her logic and lets the matter drop. "So, you really want to know why I'm purple?"

Nodding eagerly, they're all crowding around him, waiting.

"I was born in Antarctica," he tells them. "You know what that is, right?"

"It's one of the seven con-tin-ents," Jennifer says, clearly proud of her knowledge.

"Very good. And it's the coldest place on Earth—it can drop to negative 120 degrees Fahrenheit."

"How cold is that, Cam?" James asks.

"Super, duper cold?" Lenny guesses, throwing his arms out for emphasis.

"Super, duper cold," Cam agrees, not sure there is any better way to describe it to a group of kids. "And because it's so cold there, I was born like this." He gestures to his skin.

"How come?" Ashley questions.

"Well, your skin is very sensitive to temperature. When it's really cold, you change color because your body is trying to stay warm. Because it was cold all the time, my body permanently changed color."

He congratulates himself on making this up so quickly. They accept this as the truth and all begin talking at once, agreeing that going to Antarctica so they can change color as well is a good idea.

"I want to be pretty like you," Cassie says brightly, pointing to his skin. "You're the prettiest purple ever."

Before Cam can even try to respond to that, Mikey saves him by correcting, "Guys aren't pretty, Cassie. They're _cool_." He turns to Cam and amends, "You're the _coolest_ purple ever."

For the first time, Cam notices three of his teeth are missing, one on top and two on bottom. "Losing your teeth? You must be getting lots of money from the tooth fairy."

"I'm gonna get some, too!" Cassie exclaims, climbing onto his lap and sticking her face close to his. With her tongue, she moves her front top tooth, and it wiggles a little. "See? Did you see it?"

"I saw it," he assures her.

Situating herself, she looks at him pointedly and says, very prim and proper, "You can swing."

Realizing what she wants, he obeys, moving slowly at first as to not to hit the others. He doesn't have to worry, though, because they immediately claim the other swings and join them, each laughing crazily and screaming that they are the one going the highest.

After a while, Lenny stops pumping, slows a bit, and jumps, sailing through the air. "Let's play kick ball!"

The others agree, getting off their swings and following him. As Cam slows himself, Cassie tugs frantically at his shirt. "You'll be on my team?"

"How about I be automatic pitcher?" he offers, carrying her to where the game is being set up.

"Okay!" Squirming from his grasp, she skips to her brother and shouts, "Cam's automatic pitcher!"

"Good—then the teams are totally fair." Beaming, Mikey tosses the ball to Cam and lines up with Jennifer, Lenny, and Cassie—clearly, kick ball is customary, and teams don't change—as those who kick first.

It's a good game, minus a few minor outbursts and a couple of questioning of the rules, but Cam, being older and quite knowledgeable in the ways of the sport, keeps it all under control. James just managed a grand slam when Ashley stops and starts waving.

"Why are you waving?" Cam asks.

"Our moms are here."

As the others join her, the meta-human knows he has to leave, now. No matter how he tries to explain himself to these women, a seventeen-year-old playing with a group of kids he just met will not please them.

"I have to go, guys," he says.

They whine and circle him, hugging his legs.

"Do you gotta?" Mickey questions.

"I really have to get home."

"Will we see you again?" Peter inquires.

"You're here every day?"

When they nod, he promises, "I'm sure I'll see you around. Don't worry."

Reluctantly, they release him and run in the direction of their moms. As he goes on his way, he realizes he's still smiling. Those kids had no fear of him whatsoever—he was different, sure, but they didn't care. They were innocent and trusting, able to see beyond physical appearances. It was amazing, in a way, their ability to do that when so many adults couldn't. Too often, he hears about "kids these days," as though they are all stupid, spoiled brats who depend on technology. Clearly, the people who say this had never actually met a child.

His faith in the future of humanity has been solidified.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: DC owns these characters. I am not part of DC.

Guys

He hates basketball.

He's played the infernal sport only a few times before, during elementary school gym classes and maybe once at recess, and that was enough for him. Making a basket was near impossible, and just slightly touching a player resulted in a foul. Overall, he thinks it's the stupidest thing ever invented.

When Connor asks him to play with him and the rest of the guys, though, he can't say no. Even though the Team as a whole has hung out, it's never been just the boys, and with the girls having their day, he figures this is probably a good idea.

"So, HORSE okay?" Robin asks, spinning the obnoxiously bright ball on his finger.

A vague memory of basketball copycat flashes through his mind, and he forces himself to hold back a grimace as he recalls being the first one out. This has to be better than playing an actual game, at least.

"What's the order?" Wally questions, trying to knock the ball away but failing.

"I'll go last," Cam offers immediately, hoping to delay the humiliation for as long as possible.

"I'll go first." Robin bounces the ball off Wally's head, smirking when the ginger flails his arms in panic and anger. "Then Wally—"

"Why do I have to go after _you_?!"

"—then Kaldur, then Connor, then Cam. Agreed?"

When they nod, the acrobat heads to half-court, takes a stance, and lets the ball fly. Of course, it goes in.

Wally, groaning, moves to the same spot. Taking it upon himself to get a conversation started, Cam says, "How are you so good?"

"I practice with Batman," he explains before breaking into a cackle as the ball lands short of its mark. "H!"

"_Batman _plays basketball?" An image of the Dark Knight shooting hoops jumps into his brain, and he can't help but laugh a little.

"Well, he doesn't do it while he's Batman. But you know what I mean."

"I thought he was like this all the time. You know, like he had a frontal lobotomy or something."

"Naw, that's all for show," Robin insists as Kaldur sinks a basket from the corner of the court.

"No villain believes that. Half of them think he's a vampire."

"For real?" Connor easily makes the shot and tosses the ball to him. "How do you know?"

"All the villains talk," Cam tells them, concentrating. It bounces a bit on the rim but somehow falls in. "Swap stories and all. Gotham villains are highly notorious—they have the best things to say. Not to mention the whole villain underworld fears _the _Batman."

"No kidding." Robin takes his turn, makes it, and turns it over to Wally. "They talk about me?"

"Dude, you're the best-known side…protégé out there. Your reputation is beast. Though they all talk about their being a height limit for crime fighting."

Wally laughs at that, causing him to mess up the shot, but Robin's too busy being insulted to notice. "Hey, what do they say about me and the Flash?"

With a shrug, he says, "Not much, really. Your villains are the Rouges, so…"

Hands on his hips, Wally demands, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Who are the Rouges?" Kaldur asks, absentmindedly throwing the ball and completely missing the net.

"Captain Cold, Piped Piper, the Trickster, Mirror Master, Weather Wizard, Captain Boomerang. They have a strict honor code—no drugs, no killing unless necessary, no harm to hostages, that kind of thing. They're respected, sure, but since they don't like being called super villains, the rest of the community doesn't take them all that seriously. And that means they don't take their heroes all that seriously."

"It's not our fault we have the crappiest villains!"

"Hey, it's better than what they say about Green Arrow—they think he looks like the illegitimate child of Robin Hood and Peter Pan."

That throws Connor off, the ball crashing into the backboard and falling to the ground.

"What do they say of my king?" Kaldur questions.

Picking up the ball, he thinks it over. "Not much. He spends so much time under the sea that no one really thinks of him that often. He's kind of the one you always forget, you know? Like you go through the list and realize you're missing one." Seeing the almost hurt expression on the leader's face, he continues, "I'm sure the bad guys he faces in Atlantis are totally scared of him."

As Cam takes aim and misses, Connor inquires hesitantly, "What do they say about Superman?"

"Why do you care? He's a dick, right?"

Staring at his feet, he mumbles, "He's alright now."

"Wait, how'd you know Superman didn't take this whole 'fatherhood' thing okay?" Robin asks, tossing the ball over his shoulder. It goes right in.

"We were cellmates. We got close."

Wally laughs and takes the throw, and this time he makes it. "You bonded over daddy issues?"

"Pretty much." After contemplating for a moment, he reveals, "They think he's too good, you know? Like he's got some real dirty secret or something."

"What kind of secret?" Connor implores.

"The only one who's ever really said anything definite was Killer Frost, and she thinks he's got a thing with prostitutes. That was her explanation for him having a sixteen-year-old kid pop out of nowhere, anyway."

"He does not!" Connor states defensively. "And I'm not even his kid—I'm his clone."

"_What_?"

Taking the ball from Kaldur, who may or may not have made it, no one's paying attention anymore, Connor explains, "I was made by this lab, Cadmus. To replace Superman if he died, or kill him if he became evil. Wally, Robin, and Kaldur busted me out before full term, so I'm the teenage version." Thoughtlessly throwing the ball, he adds, "I look just like him! How'd she think that work?"

"She thought he's so egotistical that he wants to have sex with himself, but he can't do that so he just settled for a lady who looked a lot like him."

As Wally and Robin burst into hysterics and Kaldur awkwardly coughs like he's trying not to laugh, Connor scowls and throws the ball, none to gently, to Cam.

"Hey, don't get mad at the messenger." Stepping right to the basket, he lets the ball sink in, nothing but net. "I'm just relaying what I know."

"Then can you explain why there are so many nut jobs out there?" Wally asks, watching Robin's ball sail into the target.

Shrugging, Cam offers, "Power. Taking control in this world. Some are just sociopaths."

Snorting, Wally mimics the move. "They're all sociopaths."

"Not _all _of them," Cam protests. "I mean, yeah, it might come off that way, but most have limits. Sure, there are your Jokers and your Vandal Savages, but then you have your Rouges. And then there are the people in between. Like my dad and Sportsmaster and Frost, they don't go after children."

"Frost has limits?" Connor seems doubtful. "Megan said she tried to kill a guard who had a family."

"She won't go after kids directly, okay? And she has a soft spot for me."

He shouldn't be so defensive, but she and the other ice villains are, in some sense, his family. After the failed outbreak, Frost was the only one who would—could, rather, being on the separate side of the wall and not quite as affected as the males—talk to him. It was through the glass that she gave him her theory on Superman and quietly assured him that things would work out.

A silence settles as Kaldur takes his turn, the conversation drifting into dangerous waters. Bringing it back to safety, Cam grins and asks, "So how'd you all end up with someone on the Team?"

"Well, Connor and Megan have been together for the longest," Wally details. "And Rob's always liked Zatanna, but he couldn't man up, so she had to kiss him on New Year's Day."

Kicking his best friend in the back of the knee, Robin counters, "Well, you were in denial about liking Artemis forever! _You _didn't kiss her till New Year's Day, either."

"I wasn't in denial forever," he protests. "I really didn't like her at first."

That ignites a small spark of anger in Cam, enough that he almost lets the ball hit him in the face when Connor tosses it to him—apparently, he'd taken his shot. Keeping control, he repeats, "You didn't like her?"

"I thought she was Roy's replacement. And me and him, we go way back. But I came around, obviously. Anyway, Kaldur and Raquel got together New Year's Day, too. Nothing like saving the planet from imminent doom to kick start a relationship."

"Aren't you afraid of their mentors or whatever?" The ball hits the rim, spins, and falls off the edge.

"Icon seems quite alright with the relationship," Kaldur states. "And I would never do anything to harm Raquel."

"And J'onn hasn't said anything," Connor offers.

"You scare me more than Green Arrow does," Wally admits, picking up the ball and giving it to Robin. For the speedster's sake, Cam doesn't mention that he should really be afraid of Sportsmaster because, like it or not, Artemis is still his baby girl and he'll use Wally as a pincushion if he thinks he must.

"And Zatanna's dad slash mentor, Zatara, is Doctor Fate's host." Robin spits that out bitterly and misses.

"What?"

"Long story short, Nabu, Lord of Order, got pissy at all the chaos in the world, so he wanted to keep Zatanna as host, but Zatara took her place."

Cam wants to make a joke, just to lighten the mood, but he decides against it. "So that's why she lives in the Cave."

"And that's why she spends so much time in New York—it's her home city, and she just wants some sort of normalcy, I guess." Going for the ball and passing it to Wally, he vows, "I'll get her dad back for her."

"I don't doubt it," Cam murmurs.

As Wally moves to the foul line, he stops short and looks around at everyone. "Has anyone even been keeping track?"

They all shake their heads, prompting Wally to throw the ball up in exasperation.

"We'll just say you're the loser and call it even," Robin proposes, smirking cheekily.

They laugh, even Wally, and Cam realizes that basketball doesn't suck quite so much anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Let's play a game: find all the things that don't belong to me!

Bored

He wants to be in school.

Every high school student in America must think he's nuts, but it's true. At least in school, there's something to _do_. At the Cave, with everyone gone, there's nothing. Striking up a conversation with Red Tornado is not something he really plans on ever doing; playing with Wolf is difficult, as "fetch" goes unlearned and tricks are seemingly deemed too silly for a beast as great as he; training by himself buys him an hour, maybe two, but that still leaves far too much time. Overall, he spends most of his time studying, but today, he can't quite manage to do it. He's returned from a work out and has the books spread on his bed only to realize he doesn't want to read them. It's become monotonous, repeating the process day in and day out; even school isn't this bad, because there are other people and it's not just reading, not every single say, at least.

Itching for something to do—patience may be a virtue, but it's not one he possesses—he settles on watching television. It's mind-numbing, so it should help keep his inner thoughts from escaping.

Moving from his room to the living room, he jumps onto the couch and grabs the remote. Hitting power, he immediately starts flipping through channels, getting only bits and pieces of random shows. Nothing catches his eyes until Wolf plops next to him, distracting him long enough so he actually pays attention to what's on screen. A little girl with a Spanish accent and a weird-looking monkey are talking to the audience, asking about "Swiper." Cam has no idea what that's suppose to be until he sees a fox in the background, tiptoeing towards them.

"Do _you _see Swiper?"

"He's right behind you," he says out loud, not even caring that he's talking to a cartoon.

The fox gets closer, but neither the girl nor the monkey is aware of this. "Is he here?"

"He's right behind you," he repeats.

"Oh, no. It's Swiper!"

"I've been telling you that!"

"We have to stop him from taking our basket of goodies for Abuela. Help us stop him: Say, 'Swiper, no swiping!'"

"This is a joke, right?"

Apparently not. Holding out their hands, they scream, "Swiper, no swiping." Each time he takes a step closer, they repeat this phrase. The third time, he snaps his fingers, says, "Aw, man," and hightails it out of there.

"Are you _kidding _me?" Cam demands, throwing his arms out to his side. Wolf raises his head, then lowers it again. "That's not how it works! No thief stops just because you ask him to! You can't teach children this!"

Disgusted, he changes the channel and lands on Cartoon Network. Pokémon is on, and he smiles because he remembers this show and kids at recess playing the card game. All too soon, however, he's staring at the screen in disbelief because _who the heck are these people?_ His memory isn't top-notch when it comes to the show, but he knows there was some girl with a bunch of water Pokémon and some guy who always walked around with his eyes closed. Either they were killed off or disappeared because these are definitely new people. And Jesus Christ, these aren't even real Pokémon! Maybe he's just really, really rusty, but there are no way these things are originals, not when they all look like warped stuffed animals. With an angry snap, he moves on to ABC Family.

"Our all day _Secret Life of the American Teenager _marathon starts right now!" the commercial announces.

The title intrigues him, so he decides to watch. Soon, he's pulled into a train wreck of lives that are _not _typical of _any _teenager in America. As far as he can tell, the main girl had sex with some guy and had a baby with him. There's this hot Latina chick who's pregnant with this rich kid's baby but doesn't want to tell him that she's pregnant. The main girl may or may not be in love with the rich kid, though she does seem to like her baby daddy as well. There's some football player and a blonde girl whose roles are hard to understand, and a black girl and a redhead who seem to have no purpose whatsoever. The main girl's sister only talks in monotone and, although only, like, thirteen, wants to have sex. There are a lot of adults who somehow know one another, but it's hard to keep track of who's who.

It's so insane that he can't bring himself to turn it off. There is no plot—if there is, it's well hidden—and no one can really act. Everyone basically repeats a central point throughout every episode, enough so that a drinking game based off one word would leave everyone wasted. It jumps around so much that when he goes to make himself lunch, something completely unrelated to what was just happening is now playing out on screen. This is the single most messed-up thing he has ever witnessed, and how it has lasted long enough for a fourth season, which, according to the commercials, premieres at eight, is beyond him.

"Oh my God, the marathon! I totally forgot about it!"

Looking over his shoulder, Cam watches Megan literally fly into the room, tossing her book bag onto the floor before landing next to him.

"All the girls on the squad love this show! What have I missed?"

He tries to reiterate all that's happened in the past seven hours—how the _Hell_ has he watched this since ten a.m?—but he's not sure if he has any of it right. Megan doesn't seem to mind the mangled interpretation, though, only hugging him for the information and gluing her eyes to the screen.

"Why, exactly, are you watching this?" Connor questions.

With a shrug, he replies, "Nothing else on. And nothing else to do."

Accepting that, Connor says, "At least you don't have to go to school. I can't stand it."

"Really?"

"Cadmus already programmed me with everything I need to know. Not to mention there are just so many kids there and…" He lets his sentence end, as though that's a good enough place to leave it.

"Yeah. I guess that does suck." Standing up, he heads for his room, Wolf trailing behind him. Turning on the light, he opens on of the books and dedicates himself to learning.

Connor might hate school, but Cam doesn't. As strange as it might sound, he _misses _it, and what he misses most are the other kids. Yeah, the lessons were sometimes boring, but never the kids. High school and elementary school are completely different, but the one constant between them are the students. Before his dad yanked him out, he'd had friends. It was the only time of the day when he felt normal. Now, he has the Team. And it's great, it really is, but that's only eight people. He's a social person, and he wants the opportunity to meet other people. At his age, the only place where that can happen is school.

Burying his head into a book, he tells himself if he just stays focused, he'll pass the next stupid placement test. He'll get to go to school again.

He'll get to feel normal again.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Haunted

_ "Come here, boy!"_

_ With a whimper, he obeys, shuffling his feet and staring at the floor. "Yes?"_

_ "What have I _told _you about leaving messes?"_

_ "Not to."_

_ "So why do you continue to do it?"_

_ "I didn't!" he insists. "I didn't!"_

_ "Really?" She points to the couch. One pillow is lying on its side. "What do you call that?"_

_ "I-I-I-I'm sorry," he stammers, running over to fix it. "Please don't be mad, Mommy—"_

_ "Do not call me that!" she barks, stomping over to him. Grabbing his wrist—too tight, always too tight, it hurts—she jerks him around so he's facing her. "What have I told you about calling me that?"_

_ "B-but the o-other kids call their m-moms that."_

_ "Because those women _wanted _their children!" she spits. "They weren't mistakes! They aren't freaks!" Running her fingers through her hair, she mutters, "God, I should have had an abortion."_

_ Reduced to tears, he tries to apologize, but the words won't come._

_ "Stop crying!" she shouts. "Stop crying right now or so help me you will regret it!"_

_ He can't stop—he's three, only three, and he's scared and sad and so, so, sorry—so he runs, upstairs to his room, hiding under the covers. She won't check on him. She doesn't care._

_ Why doesn't she care?_

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Look!"_

_ He's racing down the stairs, more excited than he's ever been in his whole life. He just did the coolest thing ever and it'll make her so happy, he just knows it._

_ "What do you want?" she demands, arms crossed over her chest._

_ Taking a deep breath, he raises his hand and duplicates what he did in his room, concentrating on how cold he feels. Ice emerges, crystals dancing along his flesh._

_ "Look!" He smiles at her. "Look what I can do!"_

_ "No." Her voice is angry, angrier than he's ever heard it. "No, God, no, this can't be happening."_

_ "What's wrong?"_

_ "Stop it! Right now, stop whatever it is you're doing?"_

_ "Why?"_

_ "Why? Because it makes you even more of a freak than you already are! Normal people cannot do that! You should not be able to do that!"_

_ Obediently, he stops, turning his attention to the floor. "I thought it would make you happy."_

_ "Happy? Having my child be some kind of a monster would make me happy?"_

_ "I'm not a monster," he whispers, his bottom lip quivering._

_ "You'll turn into your father!" she growls. "You'll hurt people some day. That's all monsters are good at, hurting people."_

_ His father. His father is bad—that's all she ever says, all the information she's willing to give—and he doesn't want to be like him._

_ "I won't," he promises. "I won't!"_

_ "If you keep doing that you will!" she snarls. "So I better never, _ever _catch you doing this again. This is bad—your powers are bad. Understand?"_

_ He nods, but it's not enough. "Say it!" she shouts._

_ "My powers are bad."_

_ "Again!"_

_ "My powers are bad."_

_ She makes him repeat it until the words no longer make sense, until he believes it, until he wishes he'd never learned he could do this._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Where are we going?" he timidly asks from the backseat. They've been driving forever and they never go anywhere and he doesn't like this, he doesn't like this at all._

_ "You'll see."_

_ He knows she doesn't want to talk, so he stays quiet and waits. Finally, they pull up to a house. Stopping the car, she gets out and marches to the front door. "Joar!" she calls—with the windows down, he can hear everything—knocking furiously. "Joar Mahkent, answer me!"_

_ Just when he's convinced no one's home, a man opens up. "Who are you?" He has a mean-sounding voice._

_ "Here's a hint: Las Vegas, December 1992."_

_ "Sorry, doesn't mean anything."_

_ "We had sex. _You _got me drunk off fancy wine. Bought a penthouse suite in a nice hotel."_

_ "Nope. So please, if you would leave—"_

_ "I had your son."_

_ "_What?_"_

_ "You got me pregnant. I've spent the last eight years raising your kid, and I am done."_

_ "First of all, you don't know he's my kid. Second, even if he is mine, you can't expect me to raise him, not when you know what I am."_

_ "Oh, he is yours." Turning toward the car, she shouts, "Cameron, come here!"_

_ He does as he's told, nervous and scared and so confused._

_ "Now look at him and tell me he isn't yours. Not to mention he has your powers." Addressing him, she commands, "Show him."_

_ "But you said never to—"_

_ "Well now I'm telling you to use them, and you know better than to disobey me."_

_ Wordlessly, he makes the ice encase his hands. Gathering the courage, he looks up at this man—Joar, Joar Mahkent, his dad—and sees only shock on his face. No happiness._

_ "See? Now take him."_

_ "I can't."_

_ "He's your responsibility!"_

_ "Yours, too!"_

_ "I've done my job! It's about time you did yours!"_

_ "You're the mother—"_

_ "And you're the father! Look, I don't care what you do with him, just take him! I can't do this anymore, not the way he is."_

_ Joar—Dad—turns his attention toward him. "Go inside," he instructs, "until we finish talking."_

_ He doesn't want to, but he doesn't want to make Dad mad, either, so he trudges inside, pretending that he can't hear them shouting about who must take care of him. Neither of them wants him. Nobody wants him._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Train harder!" his dad shouts, arms crossed over his chest._

_ "I'm tired," he whispers, struggling just to breath. He's been practicing his powers every day since he got here, but today's been the worst training session of them all. He hasn't stopped since morning, to eat or drink or anything._

_ "I don't care!"_

_ "Please, Dad, can I take a break?"_

_ "One more hour. Now go!"_

_ Ice shoots from his hands, hitting the targets, over and over and over until the basement is spinning and he's suddenly on the ground and his head is pounding._

_ "Get up."_

_ He tries, but his body won't listen. _

_ "Fine. Then I guess you stay down here all night."_

_ With that, his father leaves. Too exhausted to even cry, he just lays there and waits till morning, for the process to begin all over again._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Dad, you're coming to the graduation tomorrow, right?"_

_ "You know you don't really graduate from elementary school, right?"_

_ "Do to! We're all moving on to middle school! So it must be graduating! So you're coming, right? Right, Dad?"_

_ "No, Cameron, I'm not. I can't." After a moment, he adds, "And you're not going to middle school."_

_ "Am too! All of us are."_

_ "No, you're not. I'm taking you out of school."_

_ He stares at him, disbelieving. This must be a joke._

_ "You can't, Dad! Please, you can't!"_

_ "I have to. It's too dangerous with what I do."_

_ "Then why can't you stop doing what you do?"_

_ "Cameron, this is not something we are going to discuss."_

_ "But I have friends in school! Please, Dad, please! I'll do anything! I'll…I'll get better with my powers! I'll be the best, I promise. Just don't take me out, please!"_

_ "This is your last year in school," he growls, grabbing him by the upper arm, and his grip hurts so much more than hers ever did. "Understand?"_

_ There's no use fighting—he never wins. "Yes."_

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_He screwed up. He screwed up so badly. And it's not like he just screwed up in front of dad, he screwed up in front of his friends and that's worse, so much worse, and he didn't mean to, honest, he didn't. But he wasn't paying attention and when the guys came in he acted too quickly and alerted them and they got away, all three of them, and that's bad, so bad, and he's in so much trouble._

_ They're talking—his dad, Captain Cold, Mr. Freeze, Brick—and he knows it's about him but he's too afar way to hear and he doesn't want to know anyway._

_ "Junior!"_

_ That's his codename—"Alias, Cameron, this is serious!"—so he immediately hurries to them. "Dad, I'm so sorry, please, I'm sorry."_

_ "Get out of ice form."_

_ "I'll get better," he promises. "I really, really will. I'll never mess up aga—"_

_ His father slaps him, hard. "Shut up," he snarls. "You cannot do stuff like this and not be punished for it, understand?" Another slap, even harder than before. "Understand?"_

_ "Yes," he chokes, blinking back tears._

_ "This is dangerous work," he dad barks, twisting his arm. "And you cannot be weak." He throws him to the ground. "If you are weak, you _die_." A foot finds his ribs, and he squeals in agony. "There is no room for errors or mistakes. You cannot be this stupid and you cannot be this pathetic."_

_ The beating continues, the first he's ever endured, and it hurts, God, it hurts, and he keeps begging him to stop because he's sorry, so sorry, but that only makes his dad kick him harder, bruising him all over._

_ "He's had enough." It sounds like Captain Cold, but he can't tell, not really, everything's muddled. "Icicle, back off—he's a kid."_

_ "He has to _learn_," his dad insists, but the kicking does stop. "You know what'll happen to him if he doesn't."_

_ "He's had enough," the other man repeats. "Look at him, Icicle. He's barely conscious."_

_ There's a moment of silence. "Get up, Cameron."_

_ Whimpering, he struggles to his feet, avoiding looking at any of them because he can't, not when he feels so awful._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ He's not the one who messed up this time, but he wishes he were. Better him than Artemis, but it's too late now._

_ "What happened?" Sportsmaster demands of the young girl—she's only twelve, he's fourteen now, he should protect her, he should do something—grabbing her by the arm._

_ "I'm sorry." She's trying to be tough, she's trying so hard, but she's scared, that's obvious. "I was too focused on my target to realize there was someone behind me."_

_ "You almost jeopardized _everything_!" he growls._

_ "I know. I'm sorry."_

_ "Sorry isn't good enough." His hand is brought viciously across her face, and the impact echoes around the empty room. _

_ He can't believe it. Sportsmaster has never hurt Artemis before. And he shouldn't because she is perfect, smart and pretty and great with her bow and good, she's so good and nice and she should never, ever be hit. It doesn't matter if his dad beats him—it's different, he's stupid, he never does anything right, he deserves it, he needs to learn if he wants to live—but she doesn't deserve this, any of this, she deserves so much more, so much better._

_ He takes a step forward, and both look at him. Sportsmaster seems to be waiting while Artemis is furiously shaking her head, telling him not to do anything, not to say anything. And he can't go against her, so he just lowers his head and turns to his father. They leave, another slap and a broken yelp sounding behind them, and for the first time in years, he cries. Why can't he save her?_

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ He finds the body of a six-year-old boy._

_ The face is one he's seen from the news. Missing for three weeks. Kidnapped, presumably by the estranged, deranged uncle. A hundred thousand dollar reward for returning him alive, fifty thousand for any news. Heartbroken parents, weeping on national television, just wanting to know what happened to their son._

_ They'll never know._

_ He wants to leave an anonymous call to the police, but when he tells his plan to his father, it's shot down because that is stupid and dangerous and he's a super villain in training, damn it, he has to stop doing stuff like this._

_ So in the abandoned lot, he rips away the weeds and digs, tearing apart the soft earth. With shaking hands, he moves the body—he's so light and little and he shouldn't be dead, no, he can't be dead—into the grave. On an impulse, he closes the hazel eyes before covering the body with dirt. He wishes he had a teddy bear or something to give him, but there's nothing._

_ "I'm sorry," he murmurs, arranging the first layer of weeds into a cross—there's a God, somewhere, right?—and tentatively covering that up with more vegetation. He should tell, he needs to tell, they're worried sick and he's their baby, but he can't because he's suppose to be evil and this will get pinned on him or his father and no one will believe that he would never, ever hurt a child._

_ "I'm sorry."_

_ He wonders if God hears him, if He even cares._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

They invade his thoughts, bursting out of nowhere to remind him of his past. He tries so hard to forget, to force them away, but they won't leave. They're a part of him, and they always will be.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not mine. Still.

Memories

_He's sitting on the couch, sniffling, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his face. The door slams, causing him to jump and look up. His father is approaching him—she's not there, she's gone, she left him—his face angry._

_ "Why are you crying?" he demands._

_ Taking a struggling breath, he manages, "Y-y-you don't want me."_

_ He sighs loudly and kneels in front of him, not so angry anymore. "Look, it's not that I don't want you; it's just, I really wasn't expecting you."_

_ "Because I'm a mistake."_

_ "I never said that."_

_ "She did," he states, wringing the bottom of his shirt around his hands. "She told me lots of times. She wishes she'd got an ab-abor…"_

_ "Abortion?" his dad offers._

_ He nods weakly and continues, "It's because I'm a freak and a monster."_

_ "Why? Because of how you look? Because of your powers? No, kid, she has it wrong. There's nothing wrong with you—you're different, that's all." After a moment, he adds, "I have a friend who's a lot like you."_

_ "Really?"_

_ "Really. You can meet her one day. You'd like that?"_

_ He nods, the last of his tears dripping off his face. Gathering his courage, he asks, "You have powers like me too, right?"_

_ "Not exactly. I need a machine. But you, you can do it all by yourself, without any help. That's pretty cool."_

_ "You think?"_

_ "Of course. Show me again, okay?"_

_ The ice appears, thick upon his small hands. This time, his dad smiles—it's not big but it's really happy and it's more than she's ever given him—and says, "Impressive. But I bet with training, you'll be able to do even more."_

_ "You'll train me?"_

_ "We'll start tomorrow, okay?"_

_ "Okay!"_

_ "Good." He stands. "We'll have dinner first, then I'll show you around. You like grilled cheese?"_

_ "Yeah." As he follows him out of the room, he hesitantly asks, "Can…can I call you Dad? Please?"_

_ The man turns his attention to him, and he seems a little confused, but all he says is, "Sure, Cameron. You can call me Dad." _

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Cameron, this is Crystal."_

_ The woman before him is young, with blue hair and blue skin. She's the one Dad always talks about, the one who'll train him really good with his powers._

_ "Hey, kid." She gets to his height and inspects him. "How old are you?"_

_ "Eight," he replies shyly._

_ "Eight," she repeats, looking at his dad. "Really, Joar? You want to get him involved _now_?"_

_ "The sooner he gets a hold of his powers, the better. Besides, he likes learning how to use them."_

_ "Whatever," she mumbles. Focusing on him, she says, "C'mon, kid, let's go."_

_ He turns to his dad, uncertain. "I'll be right here when you get back," he assures him. "Crystal just thinks it'll be better if I'm not there. You'll be fine."_

_ Nodding, he trails behind, down a path to a clearing in the woods. There, she stops and kneels again. "Alright, Cam, show me what you can do."_

_ Cam. No one's ever called him that, but he likes it. Taking a deep breath, he forces the ice to cover his hands and shoots flurries into the air. They drift down, twinkling in the sun. Focusing, the flurries are icicles instead—small but sharp, like his dad told him, he remembers—thrown at the surrounding trees._

_ "Not bad," Crystal tells him. "You have a lot of potential there, Cam. Now, have you ever manipulated the ice into shapes?"_

_ When he just stares at her, she allows ice to cover her right hand. After a moment, it's a ball with spikes all over. "Like this. Can you try this for me?"_

_ He tries, and it kind of works, but it's not as good as hers. He keeps at it until she puts her hand on his. "That's enough, kid."_

_ "I'm sorry," he mumbles—he failed, failing is bad, he can't fail—staring at the ground._

_ "Don't get upset. You're new at this. Besides, it's not like you've had anyone to teach you."_

_ "Dad teaches me."_

_ She rolls her eyes. "He doesn't have powers. He just uses that fancy toy of his. But you and me? We're the real deal. Never forget that, okay? You're a natural-born cryokinetic."_

_ It's a big word and he doesn't know what it means, but he nods anyway._

_ "Alright, I want you to really concentrate for me. Think, really hard, about the ice and nothing but the ice. It's covering you, part of you. Can you do that?"_

_ He closes his eyes and does as she asks, thinking about the cold, how cold ice is, how cold he wants to feel. _

_ "My God."_

_ Opening his eyes, he looks down. Not only are his hands covered in ice, but both of his arms!_

_ "I did good?"_

_ "Kid, you did great." She touches his face, his stomach, his legs. "You're _completely _covered in ice."_

_ "Really?"_

_ She smiles. "Sure are. Now, can you undo this?"_

_ He does—it's easy, just be warm, think warm and the ice just melts away—and smiles, too._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ He's running, away from Dad, away from his friends. They'd called him a mistake—Brick did, not in a mean way, like it was a joke, but it hurts so bad—right when he was coming back from another training session with Crystal. He knows he wasn't supposed to hear it but he did and he can't face them._

_ "Cameron!"_

_ Dad. Stumbling a little, he stops running, swallowing a lot so he won't cry._

_ "Don't ever do that again!" his dad barks when he reaches him. Grabbing his arm—not hard, not this time, just enough—he says, "It's dangerous out here. You can't just run off."_

_ "He said I was a mistake."_

_ "I know." He's talking soft now. "But he didn't mean it like that. I promise. You're not a mistake."_

_ "I wasn't planned—_you_ even said that."_

_ "It's not the same thing, Cameron. A mistake is something you'd change if you could. You were just…"_

_ "A surprise?"_

_ "Yeah. That's it." Sighing, he murmurs, "I'll make you a deal—you know how they call me Icicle? What if we call you Icicle Junior? So they all know you're my kid."_

_ "So they know you want me?"_

_ "Exactly."_

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Happy birthday, Cameron."_

_ The ten-year-old can barely believe it as he stares at the cupcake in front of him. "You remembered?"_

_ His dad snorts. "'Course I remembered. I would've remembered last year, too, if you'd bothered telling me ahead of time. Don't get all mushy on me, kid—eat it already."_

_ In one swift movement, half the cupcake is in his mouth. It's the best he's ever had—double chocolate with fudge in the middle and it's for _him_, his birthday—and he's inhaling the rest when his dad says, "Geez, slow down before you choke to death! Seriously, you'd think I never fed you."_

_ Chewing his food carefully, he swallows and grins. "Thanks so much, Dad! This is the greatest birthday ever!"_

_ His dad just stares at him, and he almost looks sad, kind of, but it disappears real quick when he asks, "You think that's all you're getting?"_

_ "There's more?!"_

_ "Pick any movie you want, kid. We'll watch it together."_

_ Sprinting into the living room, he examines the DVDs. There aren't many, and there aren't any kid ones, so he picks _The Godfather_ because he knows his dad likes it. They start on opposite ends of the couch, but as the movie continues—he doesn't understand anything that's going on but that's okay because he's with his dad and that's all that matters—he slides closer and closer until he's right next to him. Before he knows it, he's leaning against him, trying to keep his eyes open._

_ "Happy birthday, Cameron," his dad repeats quietly, wrapping his arm around his shoulders._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ His dad nudges him forward, and Sportsmaster does the same with his daughter. At first, the two just look at each other, waiting. Finally, he says, "I'm Cameron."_

_ "I'm Artemis."_

_ "Artemis?" he repeats._

_ Her eyes narrow, and she'd be pretty scary if she didn't seem so small compared to her bow. "Yeah. Why?"_

_ "Nothing," he replies quickly. "I've just never heard it before."_

_ "You think it's weird."_

_ "No! I think it's one of the nicest names I've ever heard." It's true, too. "And anyone who thinks it's weird is stupid."_

_ She smiles a little—she's so pretty, so, so pretty—and says, "Thanks, Cam."_

_ Cam. He likes it even more when she says it._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Are you sure this is a good idea?"_

_ Grinning, he turns to the girl. "Trust me—we'll be back before they are."_

_ She doesn't seem convinced, but she still follows him. With ease, they find the movie theater and sneak past the bored ticket salesmen and the teenager who's suppose to check them. They settle on a cartoon, sitting in the very back—those are the best seats, she and Jade used to go to movies, before, before what he doesn't know but it makes her sad so he doesn't ask—and laughing louder than anyone else. As soon as it's over, they run out, hurrying to the hideout._

_ "Where are they?!"_

_ It's his dad. Both stop and look at each other—they're dead, there's no way to explain this—when Artemis suddenly whispers, "The windows, in the back. We'll sneak in."_

_ He follows her this time, boosting her up and creating small ice holds for him to climb. Once inside, Artemis hugs the side of the building, coming up behind her dad and screaming, "Here!"_

_ He whirls around, as does Joar. Cameron takes that opportunity to jump forward from the shadows._

_ "We were being stealthy," Artemis explains. "Were we good?"_

_ At first, it seems like neither adult believes the story, but then Sportsmaster bursts out laughing. "Very good, Baby Girl. See, Joar, I told you everything was fine."_

_ His dad doesn't seem convinced, but all he says is, "Nice going, Cameron."_

_ On their way out the door, they share a smile and a wink._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ They're waiting in the woods; even though they're old enough for fieldwork, this one is "too dangerous," leaving them to wait._

_ "Cam?"_

_ "Yeah?"_

_ "Do you think we'll ever get out?"_

_ "Out?"_

_ "Of this. Of having to do this stuff." She spins an arrow in the dirt. "Of doing whatever they tell us."_

_ Shrugging, he replies, "Of course. We promised each other, remember?"_

_ "There aren't always happy endings. Jade used to say that."_

_ Her voice is quivering—she's sad, he hates it when she's sad, she should never be sad—so he sits up and insists, "It'll get better."_

_ When she doesn't say anything, he looks around and spots a buttercup, alone among the underbrush. Reaching for it, he ties it into a ring and shows it to her. "Marry me."_

_ After staring at him for a moment, she laughs—he loves that sound, it's so nice and pretty, just like her—and puts out her hand. As he slips it on, she murmurs, "You know, Frostbite, maybe happily ever after is possible." Throwing her arms around him, she whispers, "Thank you, Cam."_

_ He just hugs her close and silently swears to love her forever._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

_ "Good," Sportsmaster says as they stop fighting, both breathing heavily. "Very good."_

_ His dad doesn't speak, but he nods in agreement, and that's enough for him. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, he asks, "Can we stop training and walk around? Please? It's Christmas Eve."_

_ The adults exchange glances. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sportsmaster demands, "Alone?"_

_ Even though he's fourteen now, the guy still scares him half to death. Nodding, he adds, "I know my way around, Mr. Sportsmaster, sir. I won't let anything happen to her."_

_ "She doesn't need you protecting her."_

_ "Oh, I know she doesn't," he quickly amends. "I just meant that we won't get lost or anything."_

_ Turning to his daughter, he inquires, "Do you want to do this?"_

_ "Yes!" she blurts out. Controlling herself, she continues, "I mean, yes please, Dad."_

_ He addresses his dad: "You okay with this?"_

_ Shrugging, the older man says, "I don't care. If it's okay with you."_

_ Facing the kids, he grudgingly agrees, "Go ahead. But be back by ten. And_ _if anything happens to her, you die, okay, kid?"_

_ Nodding furiously, he grabs Artemis's arm and is about to bolt when his dad places a hand on his shoulder. "Cover up," he murmurs, taking off his heavy winter coat and handing it to him. He doesn't need it—he's great in the cold, it doesn't affect him at all—but with his skin, he has to be careful in public._

_ Pulling it on, practically drowning in the fabric, he reaches for her again and they're off, flying down the street. Even though they're in California, it's _snowing_—a miracle, a Christmas miracle, screw the scientific explanation for it—and it's amazing._

_ "Where to?" Artemis asks._

_ "Ice skating?"_

_ "We have no money."_

_ "We'll sneak in, then."_

_ It's so easy: when they get there, Artemis drops to the ground and starts crying, crocodile tears rolling down her face. When the guy selling skates hurries to help her, Cam climbs into the booth and grabs two pairs. He's out long before the guy returns to his post._

_ "Nice performance," he whispers._

_ Flipping up her hood, she grin., "Thanks."_

_ They skate for an hour, having the rink almost to themselves, before leaving, Cam handing the skates over to the slightly-confused person behind the counter. They're out before he can ask questions._

_ Next is the light show, which is, thankfully, free. As they go through the path, staring at blinking candy canes and dancing snowmen, Artemis entwines her hand with his, and this is, without a doubt, the best night ever._

_ "Should we head back?" Artemis asks, shivering a little._

_ "Let's just walk some more," he insists, wrapping her up in the jacket—it's big enough for the two of them, she shouldn't have to freeze—and leading her down the sidewalk. After a while, they pass an ice cream shop, the lady in charge waving at those milling around, offering candy canes._

_ Taking one each, they say, "Thank you," and are about to keep going when she proposes, "Come inside and get something."_

_ It's tempting, but they're broke. "We have no money."_

_ "It's free." She smiles. "A treat for young love."_

_ Not ones to turn down free food, they obey, sitting at an empty table while she gets the ice cream ready. Soon, a giant bowl of peppermint ice cream, topped with whipped cream, candy canes, hot fudge, and a cherry, is before them. They thank her again before digging in._

_ "That was great." Artemis leans back in her seat. "Best thing ever."_

_ "Totally." Noticing a pencil on the table, used to fill out a _How was your experience? _survey, he scribbles on a napkin, _Thank you so much for the ice cream. We really appreciate you doing this for us, and we'll never forget it. We hope you have an awesome Christmas and a great New Year. Sincerely, Cameron. _He passes the napkin and pencil to Artemis, who reads it over quickly before signing her name. Tucking it under the bowl, they leave, waving and thanking the woman one more time._

_ "This was great," she murmurs, snuggling next to him in the jacket._

_ "Yeah, it was." He wraps his arm around her. He'll never, ever forget this as long as he lives._

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0_

Whenever he feels bad, whenever he can't get his mind off the fear and the worry and the what might happen, he just remembers the good times. They're a part of him, too, a reminder that there's always good, even when it doesn't feel that way.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: This show is not mine.

Out

"Hi, Cam!" Megan calls cheerfully, flying into the kitchen.

He looks up from his food and smiles. "Hi, Megan."

Landing next to him, she asks brightly, "Are you doing anything tonight?"

When he shakes his head, she claps her hands together and says, "You can hang out with me and Connor!"

"Uh, Meg," he intervenes quickly, "I know earthly things are still a little new to you, but there's this thing known as the third-wheel, when there's that awkward person who's with two people on a date, and yeah, I don't want to be that."

"It's not just me and Connor," she explains. "I'm meeting up with some of the girls from the squad, and their boyfriends, and their friends, and I just thought it would be nice if you came, too."

It's sweet of her to offer, but he doesn't really want to go. Despite his macho attitude, he's painfully shy around people he doesn't know, and it sure won't help that all of these kids will know everyone but him. In his attempt to be funny, he'll say something stupid, or he'll hit on a girl who has a boyfriend, or he'll just quietly sit there, listening to them laugh and talk around him. Overall, this just seems like a bad idea.

"Thanks, but I'm not really up for it tonight."

Sadness crosses her face. "Are you sure? It would be fun."

"Seriously, I'm cool."

"Really?"

"Really," he says with a laugh. "You don't have to go all mother-bear on me. I can take care of myself."

"I know that!" she assures him. "It's just…you spend so much time alone, and I…I figured it would be nice if you got out."

Her concern is touching, and it makes him feel like a jerk for not going, so he says, "Another time. Listen, I'll go to your competition, alright? Cheer you on—rah, rah, blah blah blah and all that."

"Okay," she replies, smiling again before leaving the room, presumably to get ready. Shoving the remainder of his dinner into his mouth, he washes his dishes and heads to his room, whistling for Wolf to follow. Jumping onto the bed, he reaches for a physics textbook and tries to get into it, but he can't get himself to focus. Putting it down, he addresses Wolf: "This is a pretty crappy way for a seventeen-year-old to spend a Friday night, isn't it?"

Wolf raises his head and lets out a gruff grunt of agreement. Leaning down to pet him, Cam murmurs, "I need a life. I need friends."

The canine seems insulted.

"Of course you're my friend! So is everyone on the Team. But it's not like I'm super close with any of them except Artemis. And she's probably out with Wally right now…"

Sympathetically, Wolf rests his head on Cam's leg, gently nudging his stomach with his nose.

"Thanks, boy." Thinking for a moment, he declares, "I'm doing something tonight."

When his pet sends him a clearly quizzical look, he mutters, "I don't _know _what, but I'll figure it out. Hmm. There are always kids milling around Wawa; I'll just introduce myself to some of them. Don't give me that look—it doesn't sound _that_ stupid. Besides, I don't see you coming up with any better ideas."

Resolute, he puts his plan in action. After Connor and Megan leave—Connor looking so much less enthusiastic than he girlfriend—Cam grabs some money from his drawer and shoves it into a jean pocket. Giving himself a quick look-over, he embarks for the convenience store.

Initially, his plan is a dud, the only people there being the bored cashiers and a woman agonizing over which kind of chips to buy. After walking around and trying not to look like he's going to rob the place, he's about to bail when a pretty girl, around his age, walks in. On a mission, she grabs a wide array of junk for and soda, somehow holding it all before placing it before the cashier. To avoid seeming stalkerish, he picks up a pack of chocolate chip cookies and takes his place in line behind her.

"That'll be $32.87," the cashier grumbles as he starts shoving the stuff into bags.

"Uh…I, I only have twenty-seven dollars," she stammers, recounting the money.

Puckering his lips, the cashier growls, "That's not enough."

"I know. I'm sorry. Oh God, I'm that person. I'm sorry. I'll put stuff back—"

"I can lend you the money," Cam blurts out, his hero impulse kicking in as he throws a ten-dollar bill on the counter.

Blinking in surprise, she turns to him and asks, "Are you sure?"

Even if he's not, the cashier has already taken her money and finalized the purchase, handing her the change and the bags before sneering, "Have a nice night."

Wordlessly, she hands Cam his money and takes her bags, waiting for him to pay for his item. "That was so nice of you."

"No big deal." He's trying to play it cool, but he's kind of sucking at it.

"I'm normally not like this," she insists, nervously running her fingers through her long brown hair. "But I picked the short straw and had to get all this stuff and of course half of my friends don't chip in to pay and you probably don't care and I'm rambling oh dear God shut me up."

"What's your name?" he inquires, hoping to get this conversation on track.

"Marissa. What's yours?"

"Cam."

"Well, Cam, if you want, you can hang out with me and my slacker friends. Maybe get your money back."

"Six bucks won't kill me." Flashing her a grin, he continues, "But I wouldn't mind hanging out with you."

She giggles, then blushes and clamps her hand over her mouth. Collecting herself, she says, "They're waiting outside."

Too late, he realizes that he's walking into the exact situation he had wanted to avoid: a bunch of people who know each other but don't know him. This, however, is worse since he lacks Connor and Megan as support.

A group of six kids are sitting in the back of a beat-up Jeep, talking to one another. One girl spots Marissa and calls, "Hey, girl, took you long enough!" When her eyes settle on Cam, she whistles and jumps out of the car. "Marissa found a friend!"

The others follow suit, and Marissa quickly explains what had happened before introducing everyone: "Cindy, Andrew, Eddy, Danielle, Penelope, Mike. This is Cam."

He gets a couple of "sups" and a few head nods, but it's Mike who really makes an impression: "Dude, what's up with your skin?"

"Mike!" Marissa barks, punching him in the arm.

"I have cryogenomutenegous," he offers, bitter that the made-up disease his mom drilled into him rolls off his tongue so easily.

"What does that mean?" Cindy asks.

"My core body temperature is really low, so it throws off my pigmentation."

"Is it contagious?"

"No."

"Do you have to take medication for it?" Andrew questions.

"Leave him alone!" Marissa commands.

Raising his hands defensively, Andrew insists, "I'm just curious, that's all. I've never heard of it before, and since I'm going to be a doctor, might as well learn about it."

"No medicine," he says. "The only thing it does is change my skin."

"So, you're, like, a weird-ass albino?" Mike, of course.

"Ignore him," Danielle instructs Cam, giving her friend a dirty look. "He's the required idiot of the group."

"I'm just sayin'. I don't mean nothing by it." He throws his arm around Marissa. "Tell him, Baby."

"You two are dating?" Cam can't keep the disbelief out of his voice.

Peeling him away from her, she insists, "We're not. And we never will."

"Never say never," the black-haired boy protests, kissing her cheek.

"She doesn't seem that into you," Cam spits as Marissa shoves him and angrily wipes her face.

Concerned looks are shot between the friends as Mike glares at the newcomer. "What'd you say?"

"She's not interested in you. Take a hint."

"Oh, what, you want her? You really think she'd go after a freak like you?"

"Back off," Eddy mutters. "Calm down, dude."

"I won't calm down, not when this guy's dissing me."

"Stop pretending that you're tough and act like a normal human being for once," Penelope commands, mouthing, "I'm sorry" to Cam.

"You're really on me for being normal when this guy's around?"

Before anyone can respond to that, Cam murmurs, "Y'know, I should probably be going. Curfew and all. I'll see you around."

It's a crappy excuse—it's not even seven yet—but he has to get out of here, even though it hurts to hear Marissa pleadingly calling his name.

He hasn't felt bad about how he looks since he'd left his mom. His dad said a lot of things to him, but never anything about his skin. And after a while, he stopped hating himself, stopped wishing that he was normal. He was use to his appearance now, comfortable with it.

At least, he thought he was.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Can't say I own this.

Unexpected

He's being followed.

He can sense it as he walks down the narrow Star City streets, making his way to the zeta-beam transporter. Maintaining his composure, not wanting to alert whoever it might be, he keeps his pace even, straining his ears in hopes of hearing something. Nothing. This person is a professional.

Tired of this game and the slight panic beginning to rise in him, he stops and says, in as calm of a voice as he can manage, "I know you're there. So let's just get this over with."

"You've gotten better, kid." It's a voice he recognizes but can't place, not until a tall, strong man with blonde hair steps forward from the darkness.

Getting into a defensive stance, he hisses, "Sportsmaster," because even without the mask, he knows it's him.

"I'm not here to fight," the man insists. "Do I even look like I'm ready to face you?"

On closer inspection, it appears as though he has none of his weapons with him. Still, the teen is on his guard. "How'd you find me?"

"You patrol this city; I'd figured I'd see you around, one time or another. I'm a very patient man."

"If you didn't come to fight, then why are you here?"

"To thank you."

Well, that's a new one.

"What?"

"For helping Artemis. I owe you."

"I didn't do it for you."

"I know that," he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "But still, I'm indebted. She's my daughter, after all."

"You owe me nothing, and I don't want anything you have to offer."

"Oh, really?" Taking a few steps forward, he recounts, "You betrayed every single inmate at Belle Reve. You don't think they want revenge?"

Of course he knows they want revenge, but he's not sure what course this conversation is taking, so he decides to play it cool: "No."

"C'mon, kid, you're not stupid. You knew what you were getting into the second you joined the Junior Justice League. You put a target on your back."

"So maybe I did," he agrees with a shrug. "I can handle whatever happens."

Sportsmaster laughs at that, but there's no hint of humor in it. "Really? You're convinced that you'd stand a chance against these guys? You can fight, sure, but you're not a killer. And if you want to survive, that's the only option you'd have against them."

There's truth in his words, but Cam doesn't want to acknowledge it. "The Team would back me up."

"What if the Team wasn't there to protect you?" His voice suddenly becomes serious. "You get captured, you're as good as dead. They will not hesitate to break you."

"I've taken beatings before," he murmurs, pretending that his voice isn't shaky.

There's a look in Sportsmaster's eyes that he can't quite classify. If he didn't know any better, he might call it pity. "What they'd do to you wouldn't even compare to what your dad used to do. If they're feeling generous, they might kill you after a couple of shattered bones and bruises. If they're not…it can take hours to beat a person to death. You really want that to be the way you go out of this world?"

"You have a really twisted way of showing gratitude, you know that?"

"I'm just pointing out what could have happened had I not intervened."

Now he's confused. "What?"

"You're under my protection. Any inmate who messes with you gets placed on the Shadow's hit list."

"How'd you pull that off? And how'd you get the message to the prisoners?"

"I have my ways."

It's elusive and hints at some criminal dealing, but he's not going to press for details. "Thanks."

"Wow, tone down the enthusiasm a little," Sportsmaster says sarcastically.

"I appreciate it and all, but…you're a villain. I'm supposed to be reformed."

"You're over-thinking this, kid. We don't have any alliance or anything—I just don't want you getting yourself killed over protecting Artemis." He's quiet for a moment. "How's she doing?"

There's a certain tenderness Cam wouldn't expect him capable of professing. "Okay. She still has nightmares, but they're getting better." On an impulse, he adds, "You could always ask her yourself, you know."

Shaking his head, Sportsmaster protests, "No use."

"You talked to her before. After it happened."

"One time thing. I had to know. Had to make sure she was doing alright. But it won't do any good now, popping in and out of the picture. We're family, but according to the law, we're enemies first. Besides, she's better off without me in her life." With a small smile, he muses, "I used to think you were a bad influence on her—make her soft and all. Now, I'm glad she has you. So you sure as Hell better treat her right, got it? You break her heart and you won't have to worry about the guys in Reve."

As his mind attempts to process the compliment and the threat which immediately followed, he realizes what assumption Sportsmaster has made. "Me and Artemis, we're not dating. She's with Kid Flash."

"Really? The speedster?"

When Cam nods, Sportsmaster waves his hand dismissively. "No matter. She'll come around."

"What do you mean?"

Cocking an eyebrow, he states, "You like her."

"As a friend!"

"Who are you lying to, kid? Me or yourself?" Without waiting for a response, he continues, "You changed your whole damn life for her. You don't just do that, not when you're raised the way you were. So wait it out; she'll change her mind. She better, anyway—that kid annoys the Hell out of me."

"You want me to tell him that?"

"No, I'll just make it clear the next time I face him." For the first time, he breaks eye contact. "But can you…can you tell Artemis I'm thinking about her?"

"Of course."

A brief, awkward silence settles before Sportsmaster clears his throat. "Gotta get going—still on the run, after all, and speaking with a hero ain't good." He starts to retreat into the shadows, but not before adding, "You're a good kid."

Cam watches him leave, practically vanishing in the night, before resuming his walk. Rather than question anything, he's just going to accept it because, truthfully, he needs it. He needs to believe that he'll be safe from retribution. He needs to believe that blood is stronger than anything else.

He needs to believe that he and Artemis are meant to be together.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Can't say I own anything famous.

Mother

"Cam?" Dinah calls, knocking on his door.

Looking up from _Bel Canto_, he answers, "Come in."

She enters, a smile on her face and an envelope in her hand. "Someone has fan mail," she tells him teasingly, dropping it on his bed.

"How'd you get it?" he questions, reaching for it.

"Hall of Justice's address is public knowledge. Citizens don't hesitate to write letters."

What she says is only half-registering because he's trying to absorb what he's reading: Cameron Roger Mahkent. Only one person on this earth knows his middle name.

"It's from her," he breathes, barely believing this.

"What?"

"This is from my mom." Pointing to his middle name, he mutters, "It has to be."

"If you open it, you'll know for sure," she murmurs, taking a seat beside him.

"I don't want to open it." He takes the letter in his hands, prepared to tear it in two. "She's not a part of my life."

"Maybe she wants to make amends," Dinah objects, reclaiming the paper. "Cam, do you really want to ignore this?"

He wants to say yes because honestly, he shouldn't care about her one way or the other. She never loved him, never even wanted him, so why should he bother with her now? The only reason she's even doing this is because he's a hero now. And yet…she's still his mom. If he got a second chance, maybe she deserves one, too.

"I'll read it," he grudgingly agrees, holding out his hand.

"Good," she says, giving it back.

Gingerly, hesitantly, he opens it. A single sheet of pale pink stationary is waiting.

_Cameron,_

_ It has been a long time since I last saw you. There is no doubt you remember how we departed, and I am sure you deeply resent me for what I did. I do not blame you. I was not a good mother. I cannot even begin to explain my actions, and I have spent many nights wondering about you. Upon seeing your interview, I realized that I was being given the opportunity to reconnect with you._

_ I will be in Star City Wednesday the sixth. If you would like, meet me at Bella Russo at twelve-thirty. If you don't, I understand._

_ Thinking of you,_

_ Your mother_

"She wants me to meet with her tomorrow," he quietly explains, handing the letter to his mentor. As she scans over it, he watches her facial reaction closely—she's analyzing this right now, and he's hoping she can understand something in the writing that he cannot.

If she does, she makes no hint of it. Standing, she tells him, "The decision is yours. But I think it would be beneficial if you talk to her."

She leaves, propping the paper on his dresser. With a frustrated growl, he flops on his bed and contemplates what he should do. Racking his brain, he struggles to formulate even _one _happy memory he has with her, but there are none. Nothing but mean words and dirty looks.

"I owe her nothing," he muses aloud. "She hated me. She treated me like crap and then left me to be raised by a super villain. But...maybe she really is sorry. Maybe she's different now."

He doesn't truly believe—there's just something about the note that irks him, something in the words she chose and the way she wrote it—but he can always hope.  
"It can't hurt to just talk to her," he decides.

He clings to that mindset the entire night, even when plagued by nightmares revolving around her. The morning is spent pacing the Cave, waiting for twelve-thirty, and when it comes, he's out as fast as he can because he's borderline bailing on this idea.

The restaurant is only a few minutes away from the zeta-beam transporter, but he takes his time getting there, nerves chewing away at him. Nine years is a long time to see someone again, especially someone who has hurt you so much. After a few deep breaths, he forces himself down the last few blocks and opens the door.

A woman with platinum-blonde hair, down past her shoulders, is sitting at the table right by the door. She's flipping through the menu, eyes so locked on the pages that she doesn't notice him. Heart racing, beating painfully in his chest, he approaches her and clears his throat. Slowly, as though bothered by this interruption, she looks up. Recognition crosses her face, and her mouth pops open, a perfect circle.

"Cameron," she states, blinking a few times. "You…you actually showed."

"Yeah," he agrees awkwardly. "Can I, uh, sit down?"

"Of course, of course." She gestures to the open booth across from her. "Go right ahead."

He obeys, staring at the table. After the waitress comes by, dropping off their water and taking their order, they sit in silence for a minute.

"You've gotten so big," she finally offers.

"I'm seventeen now," he points out, instantly regretting the biting tone.

Either she didn't notice or just doesn't care because she continues, "You're all grown up."

A nod is the only reply he can think of.

"Look, Cameron, I know this can't be easy for you, seeing me after all these years." With an airy little sigh, she continues, "I was a horrible mother. And leaving you with your father…you would never understand why I did those things. And I don't expect you to."

How is he supposed to respond to this?

"It's okay," he lies. "It wasn't easy, raising me by yourself."

"Oh, thank God." Placing her hand over her heart, she says, "I'd thought you'd be _angry _with me. But you realize that I was just stressed."

He can't tell if she's clueless or taking advantage of his answer, but, knowing her, it must be the latter. Still, he's not here to fight, so maybe it's best if they get away from the past. "So…you saw me on the news?"

"Oh, yes. You spoke quite well, all considering."

What he should be considering is unknown, but he decides to let it slide. "You ever think I'd be a hero?"

With a small shake of her head, she replies, "No. I mean, your father had quite the controlling personality. I would have thought he'd keep you a villain forever. But you got out." She smiles. "That's good."

"Thanks." Struggling for anything to say, he lamely inquires, "What's new with you?"

Her smile growing, she holds out her hand, and he notices the large wedding ring on her finger. "Almost eight years together," she gushes. Before he can run through the math to figure out how quickly she moved on after she abandoned him, she adds, "We have two boys, Greg and Alex. Greg is six, Alex is four." Her hand immediately flies to her purse, and she whips out her wallet to show him pictures. The older one has dark brown hair and light green eyes, assumingly taking after his father. The younger one has dirty blonde hair and his mother's hazel eyes. Both are beaming, arms wrapped around one another.

"So I have two brothers?" As strange as it may sound, it makes him happy—he always wanted siblings. "When can I meet them?"

"Meet them?" she repeats. "Oh, Cameron, you can't meet them."

"Why?"

"They don't know you're their half-brother, of course. You see, my husband believes I have only ever been with him. I can't just say that I'd been with another man, _especially _a criminal, now can I? One mistake from my past revealed and everything will be ruined."

"Being with Dad was a mistake?"

"Unquestionably."

"But if you were never with him, you never would have had me." He shouldn't be opening this can of worms but he has to know.

Suddenly fascinated with her perfectly-manicured nails, she answers, "Well, yes, that is how it would work."

And all the pent-up anger comes rushing out. "You haven't changed a bit, you know that?" he spits. "You still don't give a crap about me, do you? I'm nothing more than a mistake to you."

"You _were _a mistake." Whatever congeniality she was forcing evaporates. "I never wanted you. And you should just be grateful that I kept you."

"Yeah, kept me to tell me I was a freak and a monster," he counters, gripping the table so tightly his fingers hurt. "Why'd you really contact me? Make you feel better about yourself? Good deed of the day—pretend you care about your first-born son?"

"I don't have to take this!" she shrieks, getting up so quickly that she knocks over the water in the process. "I should _never _have bothered with you." Leaning down, she hisses in his ear, "You're still a freak. And just because you're playing hero doesn't make you any less of a monster."

She's gone, shoving the door open and slamming it closed, leaving Cam alone, drowning under all the emotions. Getting a hold of himself, he hastily cleans the table as the waitress approaches.

"We're…we're not going to be needing the food," he states stupidly, reaching for his emergency cash. "I'll still pay—"

"Don't worry about it," she assures him gently.

Murmuring his gratitude, he leaves, hands jammed in his pockets, eyes concentrated on the sidewalk, trying to keep his mind blank and failing. A montage of all the emotional abuse she put him through plays before his eyes and doesn't disappear, not until he's in his room and spots the stationary. Angrily, he rereads it, and it all makes sense. She never once apologized, never once portrayed any emotions. She just wrote this for her own benefit, so she could pat herself on the back and think, "I've made up with Cameron." Her outright surprise when he entered—she never expected him to show. Realizing that she'd arranged the meeting in the middle of a school day, he should have seen that coming.

Ice encases the paper, and he hurls it at the wall. It shatters.

Taking a shaky gulp of air, he throws himself on his bed, burying his head under the pillow. His mother's insults seem to be on loop, and he bites his lip until he tastes blood, just to keep himself from crying.

"Cam?"

He immediately sits up and turns to Dinah, standing in the doorway. In an instant, she is beside him. "Oh, Cam. What happened?"

"She hasn't changed." His voice is chocked with anger and pain. "She hasn't changed at all because she still only sees me as a mistake, as a freak, and she still thinks I'm a monster. It doesn't matter that I'm a hero I'm still a _monster_—"

Her arms are around him, squeezing him to her. "I'm so sorry, Cam. I'm so, so sorry."

"Why doesn't she want me?" he whimpers, the tears sliding down his face. "Why can't I be good enough?"

"You are good enough," she insists fiercely. "If she is too stupid or superficial to look beyond your appearance and your powers, she doesn't _deserve _you. Do not question yourself, Cam. There is nothing wrong with you at all. _Anyone _would be lucky to have you as a son."

He wants to answer, but he can't, not when he's crying. And he _hates_ that he's crying over her but he can't help it, not when all pain he's stored away is bursting through, ripping him apart from the inside out, so he just stays there, held tightly within her embrace, letting her soothing words replace his mother's angry ones.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I have to go to school tomorrow. If I owned this show, I wouldn't.

Moderator

"I can't _believe _you!"

"How can you be mad at me?! I did nothing wrong!"

"Nothing wrong? Really?"

Cam turns his attention from the television and watches Megan and Connor instead. He's never heard them argue before.

"You acted like a complete idiot!" Megan continues, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation.

"So did you!" he retorts.

Planting her hands on her hips, she demands, "Are you serious?"

To prevent this from getting any worse, Cam gets to his feet and steps between them. "Whoa, calm down! What's up with World War III?"

"_Connor_ freaked out at school because I was talking to another guy."

"Not just another guy—that creep from the football team! Everyone knows he's a player!"

Instead of making the joke that of course he's a player if he's on the football team, Cam calmly turns his attention to Megan, waiting for her response.

"He was asking me a question about homework; we're in the same English class."

"He was _touching _you."

"He put a hand on my shoulder!"

"He shouldn't have! And you shouldn't have let him!"

Cam winces at that—even though he's never been in a relationship, he knows that was a bad move.

"Because I knew he was going to do that! And you didn't have to storm over like a maniac and scream at him! In front of _everyone_. That was so embarrassing!"

"I didn't mean to embarrass you! I just didn't want him getting any ideas!"

"I can handle myself, Connor. I do not need you stepping in! You have to trust me!"

"I never said I didn't trust you!"

"You might as well have!"

His head is practically spinning from trying to keep up with this verbal tennis match, so he offers, "Maybe if you guys just talk it out—"

"Only if Connor apologizes!"

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Neither did I!"

Both whip their heads toward Cam and demand, "What do you think?"

On a scale of one to ten on the uncomfortable meter, this is a twelve. No matter how he answers, he will anger one of them, and since both have the ability to severely harm him, he's buying time by trying to look deep in thought. After two minutes, they are both still glaring at him, waiting for a response, so he sighs and goes, "Look, I know where both of you are coming from, so I'm going to have to call it a draw."

"Fine, take her side!" Connor barks, marching toward his room.

"He took your side!" Megan protests, stomping into the kitchen.

Okay, so they're both a little peeved, but it's better than one of them being really, really pissed off. At least now he doesn't have to worry about having his mind exploding or him being squished.

Still, from the way Connor's door slams and the angry clanging coming from the other room, he knows the matter can't end on this note. Gathering his courage, he approaches Megan, beating a bowl of poor ingredients to a pulp. Clearing his throat, he proposes, "He didn't do it to upset you."

"He knows I hate it when he acts jealous," she insists, stabbing a tomato.

"Well, yeah, mentally he knows that." Hopping onto the counter, he continues, "But at the moment, he wasn't thinking with his brain."

She stops her massacre long enough to send him an inquisitive look. "What?"

The joke he wants to make dies on his tongue because, with her, he'll have to explain it, and that's not something he really wants to do. Instead, he offers, "When it comes to girls, boys are stupid. Remember how I acted with you when you were undercover as Tuppence?"

"Unfortunately," she murmurs with a small smile.

"Exactly. Around the opposite gender, we act like morons. You know why? Neither do we. It just _happens_. Even if we know, full well, that something we're doing is bad, we can't stop."

"So you're saying it's not Connor's fault?" she asks dryly.

"Not exactly—just that he didn't do it to act like a jerk. He did it because he cares about you and he doesn't want any other guy coming on to you. And _no_, this is not an excuse for what he did—he should have acted less, you know, psychotic—but just that he did it because he doesn't want to lose you."

"You think so?"

"Trust me. Now, if you'll excuse, I have a moody teenage boy to talk to."

Speaking with Connor is going to be a lot harder than speaking with Megan, but relationships have two people in it, so he really doesn't have that much of a choice. He could just let this go and have Connor speak to Megan on his own time, but Cam's an impatient kind of person and, besides, he doesn't like it when people are mad at each other. Steeling his nerves, he knocks on Connor's door and calls, "Dude, open up."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

The door opens quickly, as though the clone had contemplated ripping it off its hinges. "What?"

Raising his hands, Cam responds, "You should probably talk to Megan."

Scowling, he replies, "She can talk to me."

"Wow, way to be mature."

The door slams in his face.

Growling in frustration, he tries again. "You can still hear me—I know you can. So just listen. Pouting like a two-year-old isn't going to do anything. But if you just explain yourself and apologize, you can go back to being all lovey-dovey and gross." When only silence greets him, he continues, "I know why you did it—seeing another guy all over the girl you care about? Yeah, it kills. And if this guy has a reputation, then it makes sense. But still, you could have been less territorial. Megan isn't going to leave you over some football player."

Nothing.

Sighing, he grumbles, "Fine, be an ass," and returns to his room, not wanting to face Megan. He occupies himself for a while, between reading his book and playing with his new League-issued cell phone, before heading to the kitchen again to assure Megan that Connor will come around. He stops short, though, when he spots the two making out, clinging to each other tightly.

"I'm sorry about the way I acted," Connor murmurs when they break apart. "It was stupid. And it's not that I don't trust you; I just don't trust any other guy around you."

"I know." She places her hand on his cheek. "But you don't have to worry—the only boy I want is you."

They resume kissing, and Cam, with a smirk, retreats to his room. Damn, he's good.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Last day of summer—why?! Ugh. Anyway, updates will probably come once a week, most likely on the weekends. I'll try to update more than that, since the first weeks aren't always that bad.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Must we always go through this?

Defend

"You're meeting the Justice League."

Cam stares at Batman, not sure where this came from. "Uh, why? Not that I'm not stoked or anything; it just seems, you know, random."

The Team coordinator and Dinah share a look before she explains, "Formality. They've met all the other protégés."

It's a good enough reason for him, so he replies, "Okay. When?"

"Twenty minutes," Batman reports. "So make yourself presentable."

Glancing down at his baggy sweatpants and wife beater, his customary work-out uniform, he opens his mouth to defend himself only to see that the Gothamite is gone. Dinah, chuckling at his confusion, nudges him in the direction of his room. "Clean yourself up."

"I'm going, I'm going," he grumbles.

He briefly contemplates showering, but a major upside to being a cryokinetic is abnormal temperature maintenance, meaning his body naturally stays at his inherent core temperature without him sweating or shivering, depending on the situation. Removing his clothes, he pulls on a pair of jeans and a nice shirt—he thinks it's a nice shirt, anyway, because it smells good and has no stains or holes and what other criteria could there be?

"Tell me you're doing something with your hair," Dinah says as he emerges from his room.

"What? I never do anything with it."

Inspecting him, she muses, "We could try to slick it back—"

"No," he protests, putting his arms on top of his head. "Not a chance."

She rolls her eyes but relents. Knowing that he's safe, he drops his hands and asks, "Is there anything I need to know?"

Thinking it over, she offers, "Nothing really. Just be respectful and mature. Oh, wait, speaking of which—Captain Marvel is actually ten-years-old, so if he does anything that may seem strange to you, that's why."

"He's ten?"

"As Captain Marvel, no. As his natural self, without the powers, yes. But mentally, he never changes."

"Oh…kay."

"And don't try to be funny."

"I don't _try_. I _am_."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I do not need you making any inappropriate jokes."

"You really think I'd make sex jokes in front of the Justice League?"

"I wouldn't put anything past you."

"Touché." After a moment, he asks, "So I'm guessing that calling out Superman for being a jerk to Connor for, like, ever is also out of the question?"

"If you have to ask me if it's okay, it's not. You know, here's the rule: if you want to say anything, think about it and then just don't say it."

"So, what, you want me just to stand there and not talk?"

"Perfect."

"Dude!"

"And don't call anyone _dude_; address them by their names."

"Alright."

"And be mature."

"You've said that already."

"I know. I just really, really want it to sink in, okay? First impressions are so important."

"Okay, okay. Sheesh, Dinah, don't worry; I'll be fine."

"I know you will." She smiles. "Just be yourself, okay? Don't put on an act."

"So I can make sex jokes?"

"Cameron."

"Kidding. Just kidding." Shifting a bit, he asks softly, "Do you think they'll like me?"

"Of course they will."

"Even with my past?"

"No one cares about that," she promises him. "You are not evil, and that's all that matters." Placing a hand on his shoulder, she murmurs, "Let's get going."

Swallowing his nerves, he follows her to the Cave's entrance and steps through the zeta-beam transporter, hoping that when they arrive he'll have some time to mentally prepare himself. As soon as he appears in the Hall of Justice, though, he sees that he has no such luck: the entire League is standing before him, waiting. Panic suddenly sets in because just a few short months ago, he was their enemy, a threat, and he's scared of doing anything to annoy or anger them. He needs to impress them, convince them that he's a true hero, not only for his sake but for Dinah's because she took him under her wing and he knows she must have put a lot on the line doing that.

"Hi," he manages, ignoring that his voice just cracked.

"Hey, Cam." Green Arrow steps forward and puts a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Welcome to the Hall of Justice. This happy lot is, obviously, the League. League, say hello to the newest addition to our covert team."

How the emerald archer can be so calm and collected is beyond him, but he couldn't care less at the moment because, one by one, they greet him. The ones he's never met are pretty stone-faced, but the mentors of his teammates are more open, Flash giving him a thumbs-up and Aquaman offering a gentle smile; even Red Arrow is cool, refraining from calling him Junior. The person who seems happiest to see him, however, is Captain Marvel, who practically breaks him in half with a hug before exclaiming that it's _so awesome _to meet him because going from a bad guy to a good guy is totally _amazing_ and he's _so lucky _to be on the Team. He now understands Dinah's warning because if he didn't know this guy was actually a kid, he'd be totally freaking out.

"How does it feel, Cameron, to be a hero?"

Wonder Woman steps forward, prompting Captain Marvel to release his grip and back off. There's an edge to her words.

"It's interesting," he provides lamely, unsure of how to answer.

"It must have been quite a change, suddenly being thrown onto a League-mandated operation unit." She might be talking to him, but she's looking at Batman.

Without hesitance, the Dark Knight replies, "The Team is under my command; no one else's input was necessary to add another member."

"It would have been nice had you even bothered letting any of us know," she counters, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Let it go," Dinah instructs, matching the woman's tone perfectly.

"I'm sorry, but that spot should have gone to a female hero; we're outnumbered as it is."

"If there were any up-and-coming heroines, they would have been added as well. But I really don't think that has anything to do with how you feel, does it?"

An uncomfortable silence settles as the other heroes glance at one another. Glaring at Dinah, Wonder Woman finally replies, "Fine. I don't trust him."

He flinches, the words as strong as a physical blow.

Instantaneously, Dinah is in Mother Bear mode. "I knew it," she hisses, approaching the other.

"You can't blame me for feeling this way. You know who his father is," she responds. "How many people has Icicle killed? How many lives has he ruined?"

"Cameron and Joar are not the same person." She's furious, madder than he's ever seen her. "You can't condemn him to a life of villainy just because of who his father is."

"Maybe if he hadn't been a villain, I wouldn't assume that was his destiny."

"He was _forced _to do that. You're always bemoaning the poor child soldiers of the world—tell me any difference between him and them. Come on, give me _one_."

"He's practically an adult; he can make his own choices."

Rolling her eyes, she retorts, "It's not that simple and you know it."

Superman, clearing his throat slightly, inches towards the warring females. "Maybe we should—"

"Stay out of this!" they bark simultaneously, and the Man of Steel retreats.

"He is not evil," Dinah growls. "So don't you _dare _treat him like he is."

"More precautions should have been taken before he was simply permitted to join. It could have been a trap."

"Artemis suggested it. You trust her judgment."

When Wonder Woman doesn't respond, Dinah continues, "And he's proven that he's a hero. You know why he joined the Team."

With a dismissive shrug of her shoulders, she counters, "Just because he did what he did for an old friend doesn't mean he would do that for anyone."

"You are such a _bitch_."

Stunned and shocked expressions all around; even Batman seems slightly concerned. Captain Marvel, in a barely audible voice, mutters, "That's a bad word."

Green Arrow tentatively comes behind Dinah and attempts to place a hand on her shoulder. "Dinah—"

"Do not _touch_ me, Oliver!"

He raises his hands and returns to his spot, mumbling, "I tried."

"I can't believe you," Wonder Woman angrily whispers.

"Can't believe me? I can't believe _you_. He has done everything he could have to turn his life around, and you don't even care. Well guess what? You have no say. He is part of the Team and he is my protégé and that will not change any time soon. So any problem you have with him—any problem _any _of you have with him—doesn't matter." Grabbing his arm, she instructs, "Come on, Cam."

She's dragging him toward the transporter when Batman blocks the exit. Addressing the League, he announces, "I trust him."

He says those three simple words definitively, as though daring anyone to contradict him.

"I do, too," Superman adds.

"Me, three," Green Arrow proposes. "After all he's done for Artemis, there's no way I wouldn't."

"Kaldur speaks highly of him. And that is enough for me," Aquaman offers.

"He has my approval," Flash declares.

"He is my niece's teammate," Martian Manhunter states. "Her friend. I know he is hero."

"Everyone deserves a second chance," Icon points out. "And if Raquel likes him, then so do I."

"He's a hero," Red Arrow insists stubbornly. "No doubt."

The sudden outflow of support surprises him. No one has ever had his back like this before, not even his dad, and he's never been so grateful before in his life. Each muttered word about him, each dirty look shot his way, makes him question himself, his choices. They fill him with doubt, force him to stare at his reflection and repeat that he _is _a hero, that he's _not _his father. Sometimes, though, his pep talks aren't loud enough to drown out those whispers and aren't long enough to make him forget those dirty looks. It's an uphill battle, proving himself a hero, and sometimes he just gets so tired of bothering. Now, though, now he knows he's not alone. Because maybe Wonder Woman doesn't like him, but nine other Leaguers, including _the _Batman, do. And he definitely likes those odds.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Dedicated to the director—you know who you are!

Disclaimer: Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Movie

Artemis stomps toward Raquel, anger flashing in her eyes. "Yeah, we're crazy—but guess what? So are you! You've been in this place for _years_. But you know, we actually thought you were getting better." Her voice cracks. "And so did the doctors. But then—"

Raquel bursts into hysterics, and Artemis throws her hands up in exasperation and turns away. Cam groans and covers his eyes while Connor screams, "CUT!"

"What take was that again?" Robin mutters from behind the camera.

"Fifteenth," Zatanna recounts from her place in the corner. She, Wally, and Kaldur have been waiting for the past ten minutes to say their lines.

"I'm sorry, guys," Raquel apologizes. "It's just, come on! It's hilarious!"

Cam isn't quite sure how she finds anything in this situation humorous. Megan and Connor, as part of their psychology course, have to create a movie representing some sort of psychological disease. Megan, sweet, kind Megan, has written the script, which revolves around five friends having a camp-out when two—a girl and her boyfriend—leave to investigate an abandoned asylum. Hopping from room to room, she ends up having nightmares in each, seeing what the patient had seen. In the end, the real kicker is that those patients are her friends and that she, too, is in the asylum, having killed her boyfriend in a rage. Everything has been a figment of her hallucination.

It really isn't a comedy.

"Come on, let's try this again," Connor grunts.

"Okay, okay." Taking a deep breath, Raquel collects herself, only to begin laughing five second later.

"Can I slap her?" Artemis demands, and it's hard to tell if she's being serious or not.

"No," Megan says quickly.

"Please?"

"Take seventeen," Robin calls. "Action!"

"You're not the director!" Raquel protests, putting her hands on her hips.

"I would just like to move on," he insists. "We still have more to film after this."

"Yeah," Wally pipes up. "I'd actually like to do _something_."

Waving her hand dismissively, Raquel counters, "You're a hallucination! I literally look at you for a second."

"It's important!"

"Not as important as me!"

"Megan, why, exactly, did you cast Raquel as the lead if Artemis and Wally are dating in real life?" Cam asks, just to avoid a debate between the dead boy and the crazy girl.

"Because Artemis was best suited for playing Estelle," she explains.

"Being the angry one?"

"Cam!" Artemis punches him in the arm, and he knows it's going to bruise.

"I was asking a question!"

Raquel resumes laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. Narrowing her eyes, Artemis repeats, "Can I slap her?"

"Yes!" Connor exclaims.

"Connor!" Megan gasps.

"Not for real," he amends, though it sounds a bit grudgingly.

"How about you grab her by the shoulders and shake her?" Cam offers. Opting out of being on camera, his only job is to make suggestions, and he figures this is a nice enough compromise.

"Fine," she agrees, taking her place across the floor from Raquel.

"Action," Connor instructs.

Artemis comes storming up to Raquel and grabs her, and, as she spits out her lines, she looks like she's about to throw her to the ground, but he can't tell if she's just a really good actress or seriously tempted to do that. Either way, the take is complete.

"Good job!" Megan compliments, beaming. "Now, Kaldur, it's your turn."

Kaldur, somehow still perfectly calm, stands and takes his place on-camera. Before they can film, however, Cam asks, "Shouldn't the make-up be off?"

Playing the role of a lobotomized teen, fake blood is etched along his face, and there's a large ragged circle at the top of his head where the "drill" was inserted.

"No," Connor immediately objects.

"But if what the girl saw was a flash back, then it should be kind of healed by now, right?"

"He's right," Megan agrees. Kneeling, she reaches into the make-up kit and takes out a packet of makeup remover wipes. Once Kaldur is attended to, his injuries looking faded like scars, she says, "Okay, now we're ready."

"Wait," Cam interjects.

"What now?" Connor demands.

Gesturing to Artemis, who has taken a place beside Zatanna, he replies, "She has to get back in her spot. She can't just disappear."

"We can just do a close-up."

"You don't _need _a close-up—"

"This is just a stupid class project! It's not like we're getting graded on how legitimate it looks!"

"Well!"

"He's just helping," Megan intervenes as Artemis gets to her feet and takes her original position.

Connor grumbles something that none of them can hear before calling, "Action."

The rest of the movie—which, length-wise, is only about three minutes—takes another fifteen minutes to shoot, the excess time due to Raquel's random bursts of laughter, Wally's attempts to improvise a speaking part, missed cues, and misspoken lines. Finally, finally, Connor declares, "We're _done_."

"Thank God." Artemis takes no time in ripping her "costume"—an old, faded sweatshirt—from her body. "That took forever!"

"It was your guys' fault," Connor insists. "If you had done it perfectly, it wouldn't have taken four hours."

"Hey! We're doing this without pay," Wally interjects, reaching into his backpack for a protein bar. "Or snack breaks."

"Besides, you owe us for doing this last-minute," Zatanna adds, moving beside Robin. "We only did this because all your friends flaked."

"Megan's friends," Connor corrects quietly.

"We really appreciate it," Megan says, elbowing her boyfriend in the ribs.

Robin suddenly starts cackling while Zatanna giggles behind her hand as they watch the replay on the camera.

"What?" Cam asks.

"You guys suck," Robin snickers, pressing the Volume button several times so they all can hear Artemis saying, "Just you and me. Just you and—oh, Jesus! Why didn't you tell me this was a real knife?"

While the others laugh, she scowls and holds up her hand, waving the second finger. "It was _bleeding_, not that any of you care."

"Aw, babe, let me kiss it and make it better." Wally comes from behind, taking her arm in his hands and bringing the injured digit to his lips.

"Get a room," Robin instructs.

"You're one to talk, Mr. PDA."

Face red, he points to the camera and changes the topic: "This is when you can hear Cam in the background screaming, 'Is this going to be a porno?'"

"I _still _can't believe you said that," Zatanna muses.

"Raquel and Wally were lying on the mattress together! What was I suppose to think?"

"They weren't even facing each other. Besides, we're minors."

"And?"

"It doesn't matter," Connor objects. "What's important now is splicing together the usable scenes."

Turning the equipment off, Robin says, "No problem—should only take me a couple of minutes. I just can't believe you only had a week to do this."

"It does seem quite challenging," Kaldur adds.

"Ask our psychology teacher," Connor grumbles, gesturing to a piece of paper tossed to the side. "Tomorrow's date is the last one on the sheet."

As the others start to leave, Cam reaches for the information page. Glancing down, he reads **Finalized Movie Script **followed by the next day's date. Knowing that can't be the same thing as a finished movie, he looks on the back: **Project Due**—April 29.

Unable to keep himself from grinning, he runs to catch up with the others, asking Connor, "Did you know there was a back to the project page?"

Connor stops dead, whips around, and grabs it. After reading it several times, his fingers clench, nearly ripping the paper in half.

Whenever they walk along this hallway, none of them mention the fist-sized hole in the wall.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

So this was inspired by true events: My amazingly awesome friend is going to college for directing, so she had to write a script and direct a movie as part of her portfolio. The movie plot/lines/characters are all hers—slightly altered because of my crappy memory—and everything excluding the end really did happen. The end was based off a different incident, when another one of my friends didn't know the AP Euro final had a back page, so she ended up only answering 69 questions instead of 70.


	16. Chapter 16

Author's notes:

Just learned I've been spelling "choking" wrong my whole life…good to know.

Saw the _Rise of the Guardians_ trailer and immediately thought Jack Frost was just like Cameron. Is that just me, or does anyone else see it?

NEW EPISODE AIRS SATURDAY!

Disclaimer: Yes! Haha, just kidding.

Hooky

He probably should be more concerned that there's a child in the Cave.

Emerging from the gym, he spots a boy tip-toeing around, making his way toward the living room. Soundlessly closing the door, he trails behind the intruder for a few feet before tapping him on the shoulder.

The kid lets out a yip of surprise and whirls toward him, eyes wide with fear. Realizing who it is, he sighs in relief. "Oh, hi, Cam."

"Uh, hi?" he responds, trying to figure this out.

He suddenly claps his hand to his forehead. "Duh, you don't know my secret I.D." Beaming, he looks up. "It's me—Captain Marvel. But you can call me Billy."

"Hi," he repeats, mentally double-checking his days. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

There's a second of silence before Billy counters, "Shouldn't you?"

Giving a small nod, a sign of approval for such quick wit, he responds, "I'm home-schooled for the year. You, I'm pretty sure, aren't."

Staring at the floor, Billy mumbles, "I'm skipping."

"Test you don't want to take?"

"No—we have a sub today. And the _last _time we had this lady, all we did was watch _School House Rock _videos. The whole day! We weren't even learning about half of that stuff anyway! _And _our real teacher told us yesterday that we were going to do the same thing. Please, Cam, don't make me go. Please please please please please!"

The mature, responsible thing to do is firmly insist that he has to go to school, no ifs, ands, or buts. Being mature, however, is not something he's good at, and no one's dying, so he doesn't have to be responsible quite yet. "Okay."

"Really?!"

"Hey, I went to elementary school, too. I remember a few things from my days."

Billy's arms are wrapped tightly around his waist. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the best!"

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Glancing down, he asks, "Why'd you come here?"

Releasing his grip, Billy explains, "I figured no one would be here. Plus, I was too scared to stay in my own city, in case someone saw me."

He's tempted to point out that every trip through the zeta-beam transporter is logged, but he decides that Billy shouldn't have to worry about that right now. "And, what, you were just going to chill?"

"I was, but you're here! So we can do something together."

A little voice in the back of his head is telling him this is a bad idea because letting the kid play hooky is one thing and actually hanging out with him is another. Billy looks so excited, though, and as the seconds go by, he starts working on a puppy-face and dear _Lord _Cam can't say no to that. "What do you want to do?"

"You can pick."

Anything in public is probably a no-go, since it's pretty obvious that they should be in school. Then again, he knows that there's nothing to do at the Cave, besides watch television, but if he's letting the kid bail on school, he should probably discourage that option. Racking his brain, he jumps to his fail-safe. "Want to go to the playground?"

"Okay!" Billy grabs his hand and starts tugging him toward the exit.

"Hold up!" he insists with a laugh. "Give me a minute—play with Wolf, alright? He needs a little exercise; I don't think he's moved yet today."

His eyes sparkle. "Okay!" he exclaims, running back toward the living room, whistling loudly.

Cam, smirking at the cuteness of this kid, heads to his room so he can change from workout clothes to something normal. Grabbing some emergency money and his cell phone, he steps into the hall and shouts, "Okay, I'm ready! Come on, little dude!"

Running at a speed that would make the Flash proud, Billy is beside him. "Let's go!"

"What's the rush?" he inquires as he allows himself to be dragged outside. "You normally don't get home till, what, four? We have plenty of time."

"Yeah, but I just really want to hang out with you

"Really?"

"Of course! You're so cool! Being a villain and all and then suddenly not."

"Glad someone thinks that way."

His pace slows slightly. "Oh, don't worry about Wonder Woman. She didn't like me being on the League after they learned my secret identity. Thought I was too young."

"Better than thinking you're evil."

"She'll come around," he promises. "And even if she doesn't, it's not like it matters: you're on the Team. And that's _way _better than being in the League."

"You think?"

"Totally! You guys have so much more fun!" After a moment, he adds, "And spending so much time with only adults stinks."

Cam nods in agreement, remembering all the times his dad would be working with others, leaving him as the only child among them. "Must be pretty rough."

"Yeah. That's why I was so stoked when I got to be the Team's Den Mother."

"_What_?"

"See, after Tornado went A-WOL but before the League learned my real age, we took turns staying at the Cave, and I got picked. And it was great! I wish I could do it more often." Seeming to realize what he said, he quickly amended, "Not be the Den Mother, but just, you know, spend time with you guys."

"Who says you can't?"

Shrugging and trailing his foot on the sidewalk, he mumbles, "Well, they all know I'm only ten, so I…I don't know if they'll want me around."

He sounds so insecure that Cam immediately interjects, "Billy, we're all kids—it doesn't matter how old you are, okay? Come around whenever you want."

"Really?"

"'Course. And if anyone says anything, they'll have me to deal with."

"Okay." He grins. "Thanks, Cam."

"No problem," he insists, focusing on his surroundings so he can take Billy to the right place. Knowing the rest walk is at least ten minutes, he introduces a new topic: "So, tell me some of the things you're learning in school."

Billy jumps right on that, telling him everything from science to math to reading to social studies. When he explains that they're talking about the Civil War, Cam supplies a little history lesson of his own—he's reading a whole book on it right now—and by the time they're at the playground, Billy is staring at him in admiration. "Wow, Cam, you're so smart!"

"Eh," he offers, playing it off like it's no big even though it's really nice to hear that. Gesturing to the space before them, he asks, "What first?"

"Swings, duh!"

"Oh, we're going to get along perfectly," he muses to himself as the kid runs forward. Just as he's about to join him, though, his phone goes off. Confused—only so many people know his number—he checks the name. Dinah. "Hello?"

"Cam? Cam, where are you?"

"The local playground."

"Please, _please_, tell me Billy is with you."

"Yeah…"

"Thank God," she mutters, more to herself than him. "Cam, you do realize it's a school day, right?"

"Maybe."

"_Cameron_."

Wincing, he amends, "Yes."

"And you didn't question why Billy wasn't in school?"

"Well—"

"You know, don't answer that right now. Just bring him back to the Cave, alright?"

"Wait, how did you know he wasn't in school?"

"The school called his uncle—they have a tendency to do that when one of the kids has an unexcused absence. And his uncle, in a panic, called me in hopes that I would know where he was."

"Oh." Glancing at Billy, contently swinging through the air, he asks, "Do we have to come back right now? He's having fun."

"His uncle is waiting. And so is Batman."

"Batman?" he squeaks.

"Someone had to check the security cameras."

Suppressing a groan, he replies, "We'll be there soon."

"Okay."

Hanging up, he walks over to Billy and grabs one of the metal chains to slow him down. Before any questions can be asked, Cam explains, "We have to go back to the Cave—we're busted."

Face falling, Billy dejectedly follows him. "Are we in trouble?"

"Not really sure," he admits. Seeing Billy lower his head, he continues, "Hey, don't worry about it. It'll be fine, okay?"

"Okay," he responds, but he doesn't sound convinced.

"Aw, don't be like that. You're safe, you did nothing super illegal, it should all be good. Come on, tell me about that book you're reading for English."

Billy complies, giving him a full synopsis, taking up all the time back to the Cave. They enter slowly, the younger behind the elder, anticipating what is to come.

Dinah, Batman, and a man who must be Billy's uncle are all waiting for them.

"Billy!" The man rushes toward them and envelopes the boy in a hug. "You had me so worried!"

"I'm sorry, Uncle Dudley," he mumbles.

"Why would you skip school?"

"We had a sub! And we weren't going to learn anything."

"You still have to go," Dudley insists firmly. "No matter what."

"Something that Cameron should have told you," Batman adds, causing the cryokinetic to cower a little.

"Don't be mad at him," Billy pleads. "He didn't do anything."

"Exactly—he didn't do anything. He should have had the common sense to take you back to school."  
"I'm sorry," he mutters, glancing at his mentor, a silent observer to the scene. Turning to Dudley, he says, "I shouldn't have let Billy skip. I'm sorry."

"But he only did it because I asked him to!" Billy intervenes. "Please, please don't be angry at Cam. He, he told me all about the Civil War! More than we ever learn. So I got more out of being with him than I would have in class."

With a small sigh, Dudley returns, "We'll talk about this at home."

They leave, Billy offering a small wave. Cam forces a smile to his face as he returns the farewell before facin Batman and Dinah.

"I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"I will leave you and your mentor to discuss that," Batman states, turning and walking out.

Unable to look at her, Cam restates, "I'm sorry. Really, really, really sorry."

"I know you are." Gently grabbing his chin, she tilts his head up. "And I know you only did it for Billy's sake. But, please, don't ever let this happen again. Deal?"

"Deal."

She heads for the exit, pausing just long enough to add, "But if it means anything to you, I think you're Billy's new best friend."

He thinks that over. Yeah, totally worth it.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Pass fail: Do I own this show? This should be an easy question.

Father

The halls of Belle Reve are painfully familiar. His three months of freedom have not erased the memories of this place, and they are all rushing back as he trails behind the guard, trying not to appear afraid. It doesn't seem to be working, though, because the guard glances at him and sneers, "Pretty stupid, coming back here. They all hate you, and I'm sure your father is no exception."

"Whatever," he retorts, jamming his fists into his jean pockets.

Maybe it is stupid—no, scratch that, it is stupid—but he has to do it. He needs to see how his dad is doing.

Just because he's no longer a villain doesn't mean he doesn't have some sort of loyalty to his father. A better parent than his mother had ever been, Joar did seem to genuinely care about him, even if he only showed that compassion in rare instances. Maybe if he hadn't been Icicle, he would have been a great father; as it was, he was as good as he could be in a world where he had to teach a child adult lessons. He kept him alive, and it doesn't matter what methods he used to do that.

"Here you go, Junior," the guard spits, gesturing to the Visitor's Room.

Ignoring the derogatory name, he enters the space, sitting in the hard, wooden chair in the middle of the room. A thick glass panel separates the visitor from the inmate, but that doesn't make him feel that much safer.

After a moment, he sees his dad stepping into the room, hands cuffed together. Rage is clear on his face, and Cam involuntarily shrinks in his seat.

"Why the Hell are you here?" he demands, taking a seat.

"I…I wanted to see you," he offers, and even he knows that he sounds like a kid waiting for a beating.

"You wanted to _see _me?" he sneers, hands clenching into fists. "More like you want to gloat."

"I don't," he protests quietly, staring at his hands.

"Look at me when I am speaking to you!" his dad barks.

Obeying the command, he whispers, "Please, Dad, just listen to me."

"Why the Hell should I? You stabbed me in the back! After everything I did for you!"

"I didn't mean to betray you—"

"You gave away the entire prison escape! You led the damn heroes straight to us! Tell me, are you so _stupid _that you can't see how you betrayed me?"

The insult hurts, more so than he would have thought, but he ignores it. "I had to do it, Dad. Can't you see that?"

Snorting, his dad counters, "Yeah, I heard what Terror did to that girl."

"That girl?" he repeats furiously. "She was my best friend!"

"And she was a hero! An enemy!"

"So, what? I was just supposed to let Terror rape her?"

"You didn't have to become a fricking hero for her!"

"She asked me to! She needed me to!"

"No one _needs _you for anything, Junior," he snarls.

"It's Ice," he growls, pretending those words didn't cut him so deeply.

"Oh, excuse me, I forgot what a mighty heroyou've become," he mocks. "Too damn good for the man who took care of you!"

"Took care of me? Using me as a punching bag and yelling at me all the time meant taking care of me?"

"You ungrateful bastard! I could have killed you! Your mother didn't give a crap about what happened to you! _No one _cared what happened to you! You are _nothing_."

Logically, he knows his dad is only saying this out of anger—because he does really love him, right?—but it still rattles him to the core and he can't handle hearing any more of this. Without a word, he gets to his feet, and his hand is on the doorknob when his father protests, "Wait."

"What? Not done degrading me?" The sneering tone is lost among all the quivering his voice is doing.

"I didn't mean that. Please, Cameron."

It's the first time his father has said his real name in seven years.

"I didn't come back to gloat," he insists softly, returning to his seat. "I just want to make sure you're okay—I didn't know if the others would go after you."

Snorting, he replies, "I can hold my own, kid. I've been capo long before you got here, and that ain't going to change any time soon." Tilting his head, he adds, "And you shouldn't be worrying about me—they're all pissed off at you."

Shrugging, Cam returns, "I'm not scared."

With a roll of his eyes, his father answers, "You're still a horrible liar. But you have nothing to worrying about. I have you covered."

"What?"

"Made it damn clear that none of these guys can go after you once they're out of prison. Had to make an example of Abra Kadabra, but whatever works."

Clearly, his dad implemented this threat without the knowledge that Sportsmaster had done the same, and he can't be certain which villain the inmates fear more. Rather than musing over this, he simple says, "Thank you," because it was a risk, taking that stance.

"You'll always be my kid, even when I'm pissed as Hell at you. I don't want to go to your funeral."

"Wow, nice thought."

"C'mon, Cameron, you know these guys would do to you if they got the chance. I don't want that happening." Off-handedly, he adds, "I care about you."

"I know you do."

"Even when I don't show it."

It's an apology, for all the bruises and cuts and insults, and he replies, "I know."

"So, how's life with the heroes?" The previous course of conversation was clearly getting too sentimental for the notorious criminal.

"Interesting."

"See you on the news—working with Black Canary." With a smirk, he raises his eyes slightly.

"Ew, God, Dad! She's my mentor!"

"So? Little extra training—"

"Dad!" he whines, feeling his face heat up.

"Lighten up, kid. I'm just joking." Leaning back in his chair, he questioned, "What about the Kiddie League?"

"We're _not _the Kiddie League. We're the…" It's only in this moment does he truly realize that they have no other name than the Team.

Laughing, his dad returns, "Right, how could I have possibly forgotten _that_?"

"We don't need a name. We're awesome enough."

"Okay, kid."

"We took down the Mafia _and _Cobra on the same day! Only nine of us."

His mouth parts a little, as though he wants to say something but isn't sure if he should. A single second passes before he replies, "Big whoop."

"It is."

"Whatever you say, Cameron. Whatever you say."

Before he can respond, a knocking sounds from his dad's side. "Time's up! Back to your cell, Icicle."

"Guess that's my cue." He gets to his feet. "I better be seeing you around. Preferably with some decent food—the crap here is going to kill me."

Clicking his tongue, Cam pretends to contemplate. "I mean, that wouldn't be too good for my image. You know, a reformed villain mingling with—"

"You're an annoying little punk, you know that?"

"One of my endearing qualities." Grinning, he adds, "But I'll be back. Promise. Don't do anything stupid."

"Same to you, too, kid."

As he leaves the room, the guard asks with mock interest, "How was the meeting with Daddy?"

"Good," he answers, voice perfectly even, words filled with truth. "It was good."


	18. Chapter 18

AN: Can we just pretend my version of Cameron is canon? Please?

Also, what the heck happened to Tommy Terror in those five years?

Disclaimer: Clearly, this show has none of my input. Seriously. Just watch "Darkest."

Confront

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Dinah asks softly.

"I feel like I have to," he admits, staring at the ground. "I mean, after everything, I want…what's it called…?"

"Closure?"

"Yeah. Closure."

With a small sigh, she murmurs, "Alright. I'll call ahead, say you're an old friend from elementary school who just found out what happened. They'll only ask for your first name, so don't offer your last, okay?"

"Okay."

"You're not obligated to do this, you know," she tells him.

"I want to," he insists, but it doesn't sound as convincing as he hoped it would.

"Just…be prepared."

"How bad is he?"

"He won't be anything like he was," she says gently. "So don't expect too much out of this."

With a small nod, he walks toward the exit and types in the location. Stepping through, he hears the start of his departure status before he's transported to Louisiana. Gathering his bearings, he runs the address through his mind and steps onto the main street. Head down, he avoids looking at anyone, instead robotically following the path he's traced time and time again on the Google Map. Soon enough, he's standing before Our Merciful Lady's Hospital for the Mentally Challenged. A few deep breaths and he forces himself inside.

"Who are you here to see?" The lady at the front counter looks at him over the bridge of her oversized glasses.

"Tommy T—Tommy."

"And your name is?"

"Cameron. We, we were friends back in the day."

"Mmmhmm." Clearly uninterested in the details, she hands him a slip of paper. "Room 178. Down the hall, to the left. You can stay for only a half an hour. Failure to comply with this will result in suspension of visitor privileges. Understand?"

"Yes," he replies.

The walk down the hallway seems to be the longest he's ever taken in his life, and when he's standing outside the door, he contemplates leaving. No harm, no foul. But he can't, because he's already here and he's not going to leave, not until he's said what he needs to say. Those words are jumbled around in his mind, and they'll stay there, plaguing his thoughts, conscious and unconscious, until they're spoken aloud. Fighting against the instincts to flee, he grasps the doorknob tightly and opens it.

Tommy Terror is sitting cross-legged on the bed, intently reading a comic book, his finger underlining the words. At the sound of an outside source, his head snaps up. "Who are you?"

"Really?" he demands, the anger he'd been hoping to keep on simmer already boiling over. "Don't go there, Terror."

"Terror?" the other teen repeats, genuinely confused. "My name's Tommy."

Biting back a snide remark, Cam grits his teeth together and inquires, "You're saying you really don't know me?"

"No." Blinking innocently, Terror closes the comic and presses himself against the headboard. "Should I?"

Not sure what's going on, he offers, "We went to elementary school together. Cameron, remember?"

Shaking his head, the meta-human responds, "No way. You haven't been in any of my classes."

_Haven't been_, not _weren't._ Huh. "Hey, Tommy, how old are you?"

"Eleven. Twelve on May 29."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think I would 'member my own birthday." Crossing his arms over his chest, he adds, "Plus, it's Tuppy's birthday, too, so 'course I'd know it."

_He won't be anything like he was._ Dinah's words hit him full-force. Swallowing the panic—he did this to Terror, he hurt him so badly that he thinks he's a child—Cam quietly asks, "Tommy, I need you to tell me the last thing you remember before coming here. Can you do that for me?"

"I…I was in school," he relates, squinting his eyes in concentration. "That's all."

"What about a girl named Artemis? Tell me about her."

"I don't know no Artemis," he protests.  
"Yes, you did. You _hurt _her."

"I never hurt no one!"

"You did! You really, really hurt her. _Remember_."

"I didn't do it," he whines.

Growling in frustration, he prompts, "Warehouse in Gotham. It was you and her. She's pretty—a pretty girl, remember? She has blonde hair and she wears all green and she has a bow and arrows. You overpowered her. You _hurt _her. C'mon, Tommy, you have to remember this."

"I don't," he insists. "Honest!" Staring at the floor, he asks, "Why do you want me to 'member so badly?"

"No, no reason," he mutters.

The truth? He wants to hate Tommy. He wants to confront him about the Hell he put Artemis through, make him think about the pain she endured, the trauma. Besides, it's not _fair _that this bastard can just forget about the rape, not when Artemis can't, not when she still has nightmares and keeps going to therapy sessions. He can't get off without any repercussions.

The words bouncing around become immobile, sinking like lead balls to the floor of his mind. They mean nothing now, because the Tommy who raped Artemis was eighteen, and the one who is before him is only eleven, and they're not the same. Are they? Same body, yes, but different mentalities, practically two different people. Is this Tommy even a villain yet? Does he know about his powers? Or is he just a kid?

_He's still a rapist_, a bloody-thirsty part of him sneers, the same one that prompted him to slam his skull over and over and over again. _He raped your best friend and that will never change, no matter how old he is._

Brain throbbing from trying to straighten this out, Cam focuses on Tommy and says, "Look, I have to go."

"Already?"

There's a sadness in his voice that throws Cam off-guard, and against his better instincts, he asks, "You don't get a lot of visitors, do you?"

"I only get Tuppy, but she only comes a few times," he answers. "They split us up and I don't know _why_. She's my lil sister and I have to protect her." After a moment, he timidly mumbles, "Will you come back?"

He should say no. This is Artemis's rapist, for Christ's sake!

But it's not. Not really.

"Sure. Sure I will."

With that, he's gone, practically sprinting out of the hospital. He doesn't stop running until he's at the zeta-beam transporter that takes him to the Cave.

Not feeling at all whelmed, he calls, "Dinah!" because _God_ he needs to be psychoanalyzed right now.

"Cam?" She steps from the kitchen and comes toward him. "What's wrong?"

"I don't hate Tommy Terror, that's what's wrong."

"Cam, what are you talking about?" she asks, her hands on his shoulders.

"He's not…he's not the same. He's not the same person who raped Artemis but he _is _and I shouldn't…I shouldn't feel bad that he's stuck in a hospital all by himself because he deserves that but I do and I'm the worst friend and what is the matter with me?"

"Calm down, okay? Just calm down for me, please?"

As he gets himself under control, she continues, "You're conflicted. That's okay."

"It's _not_."

"It is. As far as Tommy Terror knows, he is only eleven-years-old. He did not rape Artemis. He doesn't even know her. The Tommy Terror that did those things…he's gone. And he might never come back."

"What's wrong with him?"

"His hypothalamus was damaged. Memories have been lost, and, if the damage isn't reversed, they will never return."

"He still attacked Artemis," he interjects stubbornly. "I should still hate him."

"That's not going to help her," Dinah objects. "And it won't help you, either. Don't dwell on this; it'll become an unhealthy obsession."

"So, what? I'm just supposed to pretend this guy never raped her?"

"Pretend nothing. Accept it."

"Great advice."

"It's all I can give you, Cam." She pulls him into a hug.

"I just…I just want to hold him accountable and I can't even do that."

"Keep being a good friend. That's all you have to do."

He doesn't believe her—_Terror raped your best friend and that will never change, no matter how old he is _—but he pretends that he does.


	19. Chapter 19

AN: So, in "Darkest," Nightwing says Kaldur had to invade the Cave to give him the Flash drive. How about instead, he just, you know, HID THE FLASH DRIVE IN THE TRACKING DEVICE SO IT WOULD STILL GET THERE. Seriously, they did not have to go to all that trouble to get the information. Yeah, I know, Kaldur had to prove his worth or whatever, but still, they could have done, quite literally, anything else.

Disclaimer: Trust me, I am not involved with this show

Fear

_His arms and legs are bound, metal digging into exposed flesh. He doesn't know why he's out of ice form, but he has far bigger things to worry about. The Team is in bad shape—Aqualad is sprawled beside him, a deep gash in his forehead; Superboy is chained to the wall, pieces of Kryptonite embedded in his flesh; Robin, out of his line of sight, is whimpering quietly; Kid Flash is lying a few yards away, hands trailing on his broken leg. The girls are nowhere in sight, and that's scaring him more than anything else. The boys, at least, are alive._

_"Focus, Cam," he mutters to himself, shaking his head to clear the dark thoughts. Concentrating on his powers, he feels the ice creeping across his body._

_"Not. So. Fast."_

_A man in a ski mask and an all-black outfit enters the small room, dragging Artemis at gunpoint. The archer is limping, and cuts zigzag across her arms and stomach, the blood staining her uniform. Her grey eyes are unseeing, as though she isn't really here right now._

_"Leave her alone," he tries to command, but there's no power behind the words._

_"You're in no position to demand anything and you know it," the captor sneers. Shoving Artemis roughly to the floor, he kicks her in the stomach, earning a strangled gasp._

_"Stop it!" he snarls, more ice encasing him._

_Without hesitation, the criminal raises the gun and shoot into the air. Turning it onto the cryokinetic, he spits, "I have no qualms about using this, understand? I'll kill you in an instant."_

_Helpless, realizing that there is no way out of this situation, he whispers, "Don't hurt her, please. Just, just let her go. Please. Look, whatever you want to do, do it to me. Just don't hurt her. Don't hurt any of them. Please."_

_"What a sweet offer, but I'm afraid that what I want from her is something I can't get from you."_

_With that, he is straddling her, gun pressed to the side of her skull as his caresses her cheek._

_"NO!" Cam jerks against his restraints, panic rising in him. "Don't you dare, you sick bas—"_

_"Silence!" he barks, pistol-whipping Artemis. "You do anything to try and stop me, the bitch dies. Understand?"_

_A tremble ripples through his body. "D-don't. Please."_

_"There's nothing you can do. And if you even _try_ anything, one of my men will kill one of your friends. And just in case you think I'm bluffing—" He whistles, high-pitched, and there's a scream from the other room. Zatanna._

_"Stop!"_

_"Make me," he mocks, digging the weapon into Artemis's side as he begins peeling off her uniform, savoring her weak struggle against him._

_"No," she chokes. "No. NO. Please, God, no, not again! Cam, please, help me!"_

_But he can't. He can't do anything but look away, feeling utterly useless._

_"Cam, please! Cam! CAM!"_

"Cam! Come on, Cam, it's not real!"

Eyes snapping open, he sees Artemis sitting before him, hands gripping his shoulders tightly. She's completely unharmed.

"Oh, thank God," she breathes. "We were so worried."

"What happened?" he asks unsteadily, glancing over her head. They're on the Bioship—all of them—and no one's injured.

"Scarecrow crashed the scene of the mission," Robins explains quietly. "Released Fear Toxin."

"Was I the only one affected?" he questions, wondering how the others can be so collected if they all just woke up from a personal Hell.

Shaking his head, Robin continues, "I was the only one who wasn't—pretty much built up immunity by now, since he hasn't updated the version in months. I had a stash of the antidote in my utility belt. It normally only takes two minutes to kick in, but your powers lower your blood viscosity, so it took longer to work for you."

"Oh."

Artemis rests her hand on his cheek. "Cam? Are you okay?"

"F-fine," he manages, looking away. "Just a little, you know, shaky. I'm fine, though. Seriously."

She doesn't believe him, he can just tell by the look she gives him, but she doesn't press anymore. Nodding slightly, she returns to her own seat, leaving him to his thoughts.

It sickens him, that his mind could conjure such horrors. What's wrong with him, to imagine all his friends hurt, to force Artemis to be raped again? Greatest fear, yeah, he gets it, but still…

When they return to the Cave, he barely listens as they report to Batman, and as soon as he signals that they can leave, he retreats to his room. Sitting on his bed, he brings his knees to his chest and tries to block out the images. It doesn't work, though, and before his eyes the simulated mission-gone-wrong plays again and again. With a groan of frustration, he tries to focus on something else, anything else, but he can't.

"Cam?"

Jumping at the sudden noise, he whirls toward his door. Artemis is there, leaning against the frame.

Forcing a grin, he responds, "What's up, Rapunzel?"

"You're coming home with me."

"What?"

Entering the room, she takes hold of his hand and tugs him to his feet. "No way you're spending the night alone, not after that."

"But I'm—"

"You are _not_ fine," she interjects, dragging him with her. "You can tell when I lie, I can tell the same with you. I already asked mom, she's okay with it. So just accept it, alright?"

Submitting, he bites back his protests. The trip to her house is silent, neither knowing what to say.

"Thanks," he finally offers when they're in her room.

"You're welcome," she returns, grabbing sweats and hiding in her closet to get changed.

Glancing at Jade's bed, he pulls back the covers and flops down, bringing the comforter closely around him. When Artemis emerges, she glances at him and quietly asks, "The Fear Toxin really affected you, didn't it?"

"No," he objects quickly.

"You don't need to be under the covers—you don't feel cold. You only do that when you want some sense of security."

Blushing, he mutters, "You remember that?"

"I remember everything you told me," she replies, sitting on the edge of her bed. Playing with the cuffs of her sweatshirt, she adds, "You can tell me anything."

"I know."

"So tell me what you saw."

"It was nothing," he insists, shifting slightly, gathering the fabric tightly in his hands.

"I'll tell you what I saw."

And the way she says it makes him realize that she needs to talk and, even though he's sure he knows, he says, "Okay."

"I was back in the warehouse," she begins, "and Terror walks in with that _awful_ smile on his face. And I'm trying to break the restraints but I can't and then he's on top of me, pinning me to the floor and it _hurts_. And he starts to…starts to rape me, and he's laughing, saying that no one's going to save me, and I keep fighting but it's useless and I can't do anything but wait." Closing her eyes, she whispers, "It was worse than the nightmares."

"I'm sorry." He's beside her, gathering her in his arms. "I'm sorry, Artemis."

She doesn't respond, just accepts the embrace. After a few moments, she asks, "What did you see?"

Releasing her, he stares at his hands and explains, "I was bound. The guys were hurt around me, and I couldn't see any of the girls. Then, this creep walks in and he's dragging you with him and he has a gun and he…he shoves you to the ground and starts…starts to… and I _want_ to do something, I swear, but he says he'll kill you, he'll kill someone if I try, so all I can do is watch and you're screaming for me to help you but I c-couldn't, I just couldn't—"

She's hugging him this time. "Oh, God, Cam."

"I'm sorry," he mutters, feeling his throat tighten.

"What? Cam, why are you sorry?"

"For, for thinking like that."

"It's your greatest fear; you can't control it."

"I know that, but…" Shrugging, he mumbles, "I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"We're going to get hurt—we're heroes. But we're going to be okay."

"What if something happens and I can't do anything?" he asks pleadingly.

"You're not in this alone. We're a Team, and we'll always have each other's backs. It'll never be up to just you. It's not your responsibility to take care of everyone, okay?"

"Okay."

She lets go, but from the way she scrunches herself onto one side of the bed, he can see the invitation. As per usual, she's under the covers and he's on top, and they both just sit there for a while, not talking, not needing to, finding comfort in the other's presence and knowing they're not alone.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: Here's my theory: Cam was sold/traded to the Light by his dad after the Belle Reve incident. If he doesn't do what he's supposed to, he'll get killed. The reason he's so into Tuppence is because she has blonde hair, like Artemis. Him and Artemis have some alone time, she slips and reveals something that would make him realize it's really her, and she convinces him to help them.

Disclaimer: Cartoon Network owns this show. Not that any of us would know from their schedule.

Protective

Being the son of a criminal, he's been in a lot of situations that have left him breathless and terrified. None of them compare to walking into the arena and seeing the entire Justice League standing off to the side.

"Has this ever happened?" he asks Conner.

The other boy shakes his head. "League's never been here before; not all at once, anyway. And they've never watch a training session."

Inwardly groaning, Cam takes a seat before his mentor, who looks less than pleased with the audience. The others file in, all banters and conversations cut short when they realize what's going on.

"Alright, Team," Black Canary begins. "As you can see, the League is here to observe your progress; combatants have already been pre-selected at random, to keep the pace. However, I want you to train as you always have. Focus on the task at hand, not any other distraction." Glancing at a wrinkled sheet of paper, she reads, "Cam and Zatanna."

Standing, he avoids glancing at the Leaguers and, in particular, Wonder Woman. He'll lose his nerves if he does that, and he can't afford to have them thinking his placement on the Team was a mistake.

Having Zatanna as his first opponent is probably a good thing. With three years on her and ample time to train, he typically has the upper-hand when they spar.

Canary signals for them to start, and he immediately throws a punch. Dodging, she aims a kick at his stomach, which he easily deflects. As she stumbles from the impact, he tries for another punch, this time making contact with her shoulder. It's not enough to seriously hurt her—he's still timid about putting all his power into it—but it's enough to throw her off balance even more, giving him the chance to knock her feet out from under her. The computer announces her status, and he helps her up.

"Luck," she murmurs with a smirk, sitting beside Robin.

"Yeah, whatever," he returns playfully, not so nervous anymore. Sure, having one win isn't much, but at least he didn't make himself look like an idiot in front of the League.

After Kaldur faces Conner and Artemis fights Robin, Black Canary says, "Wally and Cam, you're up."

_But Raquel hasn't gone_, he thinks, nevertheless obeying the command. The small shrug he gets from Wally and the confusion on Raquel's face indicates that they, too, notice that something's off.

Shaking it off as a statistical phenomenon, he prepares himself. Wally's going to be more of a challenge. He thinks at high speeds, meaning most motion is slow in his eyes, even when he's not using his powers. They're roughly equal in physical strength, but Cam's a little more polished, a plus from training with a predominately combat-oriented mentor. If he's going to win, he needs to wait for an opening, a mistake on Wally's part.

The speedster initiates the fighting, trying for an upper-cut. Cam manages to dodge but doesn't have time to respond; Wally keeps up a consecutive string of attacks, and Cam can only preoccupy himself with blocking the blows. He slips up, though, and Wally lands a thorough punch to his jaw.

Grimacing, he takes a step back just as Wally goes in for a kick. While his opponent rectifies himself from the misstep, he returns the punch before landing another in his stomach. Wally staggers a bit but still goes for a sidekick to Cam's leg. It makes contact, but Cam takes the opportunity to grab the limb and jerk the speedster forward. Losing all balance, he topples to the floor.

"That's all right, Wally!" Flash shouts from the sidelines. "Just walk it off!"

"Thanks, Uncle Barry," Wally grumbles embarrassedly, getting up. Turning to Cam, he asks, "You couldn't have let me win?"

"Do you let me win just because my mentor's around?"

"But your mentor's…oh. Right."

He grins, but it fades while he watches the next match. His jaw is throbbing, and he can already feel a lump of bruised skin on his thigh. Still, he shouldn't be up very soon, not when he's already faced two people—

"Cam and Conner."

_Random my ass_ is the only thought running through his mind as he faces Conner. Wonder Woman must have written the list and is finding some twisted enjoyment out of this. There is a possibility she's doing this to test him, but, as he stares at the half-Kryptonian before him, he's going to have to go with the former option.

Beating Conner, for him, is a rarity. The other boy, besides being stronger, is indestructible, meaning it takes a lot more effort to even leave an impact, much less bring him down. His best course of action is to wait until Conner gets tired, but that takes too long and is based off the assumption that he doesn't land any of his attacks.

"You can do it, Cam!" Captain Marvel shouts, jumping up and down, and it boosts his confidence, just a bit.

Right off the back, he plays defense. Every time Connor throws a punch or aims a kick, he is just one step ahead, dancing out of the way. It's not the most impressive performance, but it's enough to keep him from losing horribly.

One miscalculation, though, plants him right in front of Conner's fist. A blow that was probably meant for the side of his face meets him right in the middle, and he feels the blood dribbling slowly from his nose. There are a couple of gasps, but if they're coming from the League or the Team or those bright, pretty lights in front of his eyes, he's not sure.

Determined to prove himself, he throws a wild punch, not expecting much but, hey, A for attempt and all that. To his surprise, Conner grunts loudly and falls to the floor.

Unless Cam got super strength overnight, there's no way that was enough to knock him down, which means Conner just threw the match for him. Normally, he'd be annoyed, but now he's just grateful.

"Thanks, dude," he mumbles, helping him to his feet.

"You're welcome."

Before he can even begin tending to his busted face, Black Canary says, "Cam and Artemis."

Swallowing a groan, knowing he won't stand a chance against her, he takes a fighting stance and looks at Dinah. Her face is slightly contorted with anger, like it's taking all her self-control not to tear the list in two and shove it down Wonder Woman's throat—from the glare she's sending toward the other woman, he knows his assumption is correct.

"Sit down, Cam."

Turning his attention to Artemis, hands on her hips, he asks, "What?"

"Sit down. You're not fighting me."

"But—"

"Sit. Down."

More afraid of her than anyone on the League, he listens to her command, wondering what's about to go down.

Addressing the adult heroes, Artemis growls, "Look, I don't know which one of you has a problem with Cam, but you can back off. He doesn't have to prove himself to you, and he _especially _doesn't have to do it by fighting consecutively. He's a hero, simple enough. Whatever happened in his past doesn't change that. More importantly, he's my best friend, and he's had my back through everything. So I will _not _just stand around while you watch to see how long it takes for him to lose it. If you have a problem with him, you have a problem with me, and believe _me_, I am not someone you want to have a problem with. So leave him alone. And if you don't like it, then you can kiss my _ass_." Whipping her head toward the Team, she says, "We're sparring, Raquel."

As the other girl gets to her feet, Cam sneaks a glance at the League. Most of them are pretty stone-faced, like they can't believe that just happened. Wonder Woman seems equal parts angry, insulted, and disbelieving, while Green Arrow has a huge smile on his face, as though to say, "Yup, that's my protégé."

When the match is over, Artemis sits beside him and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Been better." After a moment, he murmurs, "Thanks."

"That's what best friends do," she reminds him. "After everything you've done for me, this was nothing." Thinking it over, she continues, "Don't let anyone make you feel like you don't deserve to be a hero, or that you have to prove yourself or something. No one should ever make you feel that way. You're a hero, Frostbite."

"Thanks, Rapunzel," he returns with a smile.

He believes it when she says it.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: This show is not in my possession.

Competition

Megan stands in front of them, hands clasped tightly, looking at them eagerly. "How was it?"

It's the morning of her cheerleading competition, and she is beyond nervous. From what Cam has gathered, their last one had been bad, and this is the Hornets' final chance to prove themselves for the season. For the past week, she's practiced the routine every night after school; now, with the event an hour away, she's performing in front of an audience—him, Conner, and Zatanna. Unfortunately, she's done it seven times already, and they're running out of ways to convince her that it's perfect.

When no one responds immediately, her face falters. "I messed up something, didn't I? Oh, no, they'll be so mad if I screw this up. I should do it ag—"

"No, no, no," Cam interrupts, getting to his feet and approaching the Martian. "Megan, babe, you're _fine_. It was wonderful, you are a goddess of cheerleading, they should all worship the ground you walk on."

"You think so?"

"Would I lie to you? Seriously, take a few deep breaths and get yourself over to the school. You're all riding together, right?"

Her hand slaps against her forehead. "Hello Megan! I completely forgot!" Flying out of the room, she waves at them, saying, "I'll see you guys there!"

Once sure she's out of hearing range, Cam flops to the floor and mutters, "I think I can do their routine in my sleep." Turning his head to the clone and the magician, he continues, "Thanks for the confidence boosting, by the way."

Conner shrugs. "You had it covered."

"I stopped paying attention after the first two demonstrations," Zatanna admits, unashamed.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, he sarcastically returns, "How supportive of you guys."

"Hey, I've been to every one of these things," Conner protests. "Trust me, I have given plenty of pep talks. There's only so much I can say about the exact same thing."

"And I just don't care all that much for cheerleading," Zatanna offers. After a moment of thought, she adds, "Maybe one of them will fall."

Him and Conner both send her a look, so she clarifies, "Not from her squad. And not like she _seriously_ gets hurt or anything, just, you know, a tumble."

Getting to his feet, Cam backs slowly from the room and waits, in safety, for the Team. By the time everyone arrives, with Raquel being forty minutes later than the rest, there's only five minutes until the competition starts.

"Way to actually show," Artemis tells Raquel.

"Well, _excuse me _for caring about my appearance."

"No one cares what you look like; they're all going to be focused on the cheerleaders."

"I know I will," Cam offers with a smirk.

Artemis rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, but Wally waggles his eyebrows and mutters, approvingly, "Dog."

"Okay, so transportation spell," Zatanna throws in quickly, clearly hoping to avoid whatever path this conversation might take. "I'm combing it with an obscurity spell, so no one will notice us."

"You know, if you brought my car here, I could just—"

"No!" Artemis and Zatanna interrupt immediately.

Raquel scowls, and Kaldur places a soothing hand on her shoulder. "It is only because the distance is too great to travel in that amount of time."

"No, it's because we don't want to die," Artemis insists.

Before a debate can ignite, Zatanna says, "Ekat su ot rotag muidats dna tel on eno ees su."

They appear in a high-school football arena. The stands, surprisingly, are packed, fans wearing their school's colors or emblems.

"Wow. People actually go all out for these things," Robin muses, observing a pack of girls wearing shark hats.

"Let's not talk about it," Conner grumbles, leading them to the Hornet section. Everyone but them is wearing yellow shirts with black strips.

"Someone doesn't have school spirit," Robin sing-songs, ducking behind Kaldur when Conner sends him a particularly nasty glare.

Megan's school performs fifth, but, unlike the rest of the Team, Cam does watch the other squads. Okay, sure, he's only paying attention to how the girls look, but at least it _seems _like he cares. And, yeah, maybe it's wrong to judge solely on appearance, but he's seventeen and that's high on his list of qualities.

When the fourth squad steps up, the Hornets erupt into hisses and boos.

"What the heck is thought about?" he asks Conner.

Rolling his eyes, Conner explains, "The Sharks are the only other school in our district. They're our biggest rivals in everything. During Homecoming week, we keyed their cars." [1]

"That's…extreme," he mutters before turning his attention back on the girls. Throughout the routine, he can't take his eyes off one of the girls who keeps getting thrown in the air. It's not just that she's pretty—because she really, really is—but it almost feels like he's seen her before.

As they're leaving the field, cheering and waving, the girl spots him and stops dead, staring at him for a few seconds before moving with the others.

Now it clicks. She's the one from Wawa, with the jerk of a friend. Marissa.

His face heats up at the memory, so he just shakes it from his mind and focuses on Megan. As far as he can tell, the routine goes perfectly, and from the huge, genuine smile on her face, he knows she thinks so, too.

"Good job, M'gann," Conner murmurs when she runs over, pulling her into a hug.

"Good? You were amazing!" Raquel squeals while Artemis and Zatanna nod in agreement.

"Totally feeling the aster," Robin throws in.

"Thanks, guys." She's practically bouncing with excitement. "This is the best we've ever done! I think we have a chance of placing—"

Angry shouts and catcalls cut her off mid-sentence. Looking over the top of her head, Cam spots Marissa encroaching on rival territory. Initially, he thinks (hopes) that she's just passing by, but when she makes her way for the bleachers, he realizes she's coming for _him_.

Before the Hornets can offer her as some sort of sacrifice, he breaks away from his friends to meet her.

For a few awkward seconds, they just look at each other, the jeering white noise in the background. Finally, he manages, "Hi."

"Hi," she returns, nervously playing with her hair. "I…I didn't know you'd be here. You go to Happy Harbor High?"

Deciding not to open that can of worms, he just says, "Yeah. Uh, junior."

"We're supposed to hate each other, you know," she proposes, grinning at him.

"Yeah, I know. They're all probably expecting me to kill you or something."

She laughs, then blushes at how loud it is. "I, uh, didn't think you'd remember me."

"I didn't think you'd notice me in the stands."

"You're pretty hard to miss." As soon as the words are out of her mouth, she amends, "Not, not that there's anything wrong with that. I just mean—"

"I get it," she promises, smiling.

Staring at her bedazzled sneakers, she murmurs, "Look, I just want to apologize again for what Mike said. He can be such a dick sometimes."

"Don't worry about it; I've gotten worse."

"It's just, I mean, it was so un-cool of him, because it's not like he even knew you and you seem like such a sweet guy and it shouldn't even matter, you know, and _God_ why do I always ramble?"

"I tend to have that affect on women," he offers, slipping into the macho-man personality he likes to use when he has no idea how to interact with the opposite sex.

She giggles, then glances over her shoulder. "Look, I better get back with my squad so they don't shun me for fraternizing with the enemy. I, I'll talk to you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," he returns, smile growing.

She stands for just a moment longer before retreating. He returns to his friends, pretending they're not utterly confused about what just happened.

"Dude!" Wally exclaims. "Who was that?"

"A girl," he returns casually.

Artemis flicks the side of his head. "No duh."

"Saw her around once. No big deal."

Robin whistles. "You saw her _once _and she comes over to you?"

"What can I say? I'm a smooth criminal."

While Artemis pantomimes gagging, Zatanna asks, "Did you get her number?"

"Of cour—wait, what?"

"Her cell number?" she proposes, speaking slowly.

He groans with frustration, covering his eyes with his hand, and Artemis bursts out laughing. "Smooth criminal, all right!"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

[1]= My high school did this to our rivals during Homecoming week


	22. Chapter 22

AN: You might need tissues for this one.

Disclaimer: DC owns the characters. Cartoon Network is holding them hostage.

Failure

Cameron stares at the floor, his mind absorbing Batman's words but not registering them. Nothing makes sense right now; his whole body is numb, as though he'd been in ice form for years. He likes being numb, though, because if he's numb then he can't feel or think and he never wants to do those things again.

"Overall, the mission was a success."

"A success?" he spits bitterly, the words breaking through the barrier and striking him to his core. "A woman is dead! A civilian! How is that a success?"

"While a casualty is always tragic, the objectives were reached."

"Oh, I'm sure her three kids will be overjoyed to hear that."

He shouldn't be talking like this—first, he's a new hero, and second, this is _Batman_—but he can't keep it to himself because it hurts so much to think about the person they couldn't save.

"Cam, please." Artemis places a hand on his shoulder, but he doesn't want her comfort right now, he doesn't want anything.

Jerking away, pretending he doesn't see the pain that flashes in her eyes, he goes to his room, locking the door behind him. Collapsing on his bed, he buries his head under the pillow, trying to control his ragged breathing.

_No one knew there were hostages until it was too late. If they had known ahead of time…_

Knocking. Kaldur calling him.

He doesn't even answer.

Where are the hostages?_ he asked over the mind-link, launching an icicle at Bane, who only laughed and crushed it._

The other side of the building, _responded Aqualad. _Kid Flash and Rocket have been sent to get them.

_More than two should have gone. It didn't matter that they were swamped with Bane's men, those hostages needed them. He should have volunteered—ice wasn't doing anything against this meat-head. He didn't._

_Just when they seemed to be getting the upper hand, Kid Flash screamed, frantic and panicked, _We need help, guys! They took one of the hostages to another room; we can't get to her.

I'll go, _he volunteered, getting one last shot in before ducking away. _Send me a mental image.

"Cam?" It's Megan this time. "Please, come out. We're worried."

"I'm fine," he lies, speaking into the mattress.

"Are you sure?"

"Really. Just tired."

"Alright. If, if you need anything, I'll be in my room."

"Okay."

_He was running as fast as he could, maneuvering around Bane's headquarters, taking down men as quickly as possible so he could get to this woman. There were so many, though, and maybe, if he was stronger, better trained with his powers, he wouldn't have had to waste so much time._

They have a bomb! _Rocket shrieked. _Oh, God, they have a bomb!

Where? _Aqualad demanded._

Near us!

Are all the hostages out?

Everyone but one. I, I think they're purposefully targeting her.

I'm almost there, _he interrupted, increasing his speed even as his throat yearned for oxygen. _I'm almost—

_Flames erupted, accompanied by earth-rattling thunder, and the force of the explosion sent him falling backwards. Hastily throwing an ice-shield around him, he staggered to his feet and thickened his coating as he raced forward, regenerating constantly as the air burned around him. Coughing, he rummaged through the wreckage, screaming, "Hello? Hello? Please, answer!"_

_"H-help."_

"Cameron?" Dinah murmurs, knocking softly. "Please, can I come in?"

"They called you?" he asks, slightly embarrassed.

"Artemis did. Please, Cam, talk to me."

"I'm tired," he protests weakly. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Cam—"

"I promise. Please, Dinah?"

She sighs quietly. "Alright. But if you need me at all, contact me."

"I will."

There's a moment of silence. "It's going to be okay. I know it's hard, but it _will _be okay."

If only he could believe her.

_Following the sound of the broken plea, he found the hostage under a mass of fall beams. Freezing and shattering them, he picked her up in his arms. Her left leg seemed broken, and her face was covered in smoke and blood. Burns ran up and down her body, and there was a particularly nasty one on her stomach._

_"You're going to be okay," he told her._

_"I…I don't think so," she wheezed. "I c-can't breathe."_

_"You're fine. We just have to get you out of here—"_

_"I should have known," she mused quietly, a tear slicing through the black and red. "Trying to win a case against these scumbags."_

_"Don't talk like that. You're going to be alright. What's your name?"  
"Hannah Evens." Her eyelids fluttered weakly, and she felt heavier in his arms._

_"You have kids?" he blurted out, trying to get her to focus._

_"Three. Two girls, one boy," she managed._

"Cam? C'mon, Cam, open up."

"Not now, Artemis. Please."

"You have to talk about it. I'm not leaving until you open this door."

He doesn't move.

_"Tell me about them."_

_"Catherine is twelve, entering her boy-crazy stage." She let out a broken laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Madeline is nine and wants to be a professional ballerina when she grows up. Timmy's f-five and loves soccer." Choking slightly, she continued in a weaker voice. You're his f-favorite hero."_

_Heart breaking, he forced a smile to his face. "When you're all better, I'll come see him."_

_Shaking her head, she objected, "I'm not going to make it. Please, t-tell them I love them."_

_"Y-you can do that. When we get you out of here."_

_"Tell them I love them," she repeated, more tears tracing their way down her cheeks._

_"I will," he swore quietly._

_Contented, she closed her eyes. "You're cold," she mumbled._

_"S-s-sorry," he stammered stupidly._

_"N-no. I l-like that. It's soothing."_

_The Team's thoughts were ricocheting around his brain, but all he could hear was the aching silence that came with the unmoving form in his arms, growing cold like him._

The scene plays again and again, each time cutting him a little bit deeper. When he can't take it anymore, he stands shakily and decides to go to the gym, to work off frustration—

His foot catches on something outside of his room, and he tumbles to the floor.

"Geez, Frostbite, will you watch where you're going?"

"Artemis?" Eyes adjusting to the dim light, he finds the archer, getting into a sitting position and rubbing her shoulder in annoyance. "You stayed?"

"I told you I wasn't leaving until you talked." Grabbing his wrist, she says, "So talk."

"I don't want to."

"You need to. It'll make you feel better." Smirking crookedly, she adds, "We've been through that enough times, haven't we?"

Shrugging, he avoids eye contact. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is. The first time you don't save someone…it hurts. It _kills_. But it happens. And it's not your fault. Sometimes, you just can't do it."

"But I could have."

"What?"

"If I'd been faster, if I'd gone with Wally and Raquel, if I fought better—"

"Don't do this to yourself."

"She was a mother, Artemis! There are three kids who don't have a mom anymore."

"I know." She cups his chin in her hand. "But you can't put yourself through this. The _what if _game is bad, and it doesn't help anyone."

"What am I supposed to do, just move on like she never existed?"

"You keep training. You keep saving people."

"That didn't answer my question."

"You'll never forget, Cam. It just doesn't happen. But the pain lessens, and it gets easier."

He shakes his head. "I should have saved her."

"Cam—"

"She was telling me about her kids and she told me to tell them that she loved them. And I said that she could do it, but then she asked me again and I said okay. Maybe, maybe if I had kept insisting, she would've lived."

"It doesn't work that way; she was hurt so badly. Nothing could have saved her."

"She was a mother," he repeats, rubbing at his eyes.

"I know," she murmurs, hugging him. "I know."

She doesn't know, though, not really. The daughter of an assassin, she grew up with death, saw it all around her from such a young age. Being the son of a criminal, he was spared. There was no doubt that Icicle had slaughtered people; he just never had to do it in front of his child. Although his career would have escalated to murder, if his father ever had his way, it wasn't on what he had to base his life. He may never have killed someone, never have needed to see someone die. Throughout his childhood, after moving in with his dad, he feared the day a target would be murdered. As a hero, he assumed he'd been spared. That made this incident all the more painful—being a villain, people expected to die when he was around; being a hero, people expected to be saved.

"I failed," he whispers, so quietly that Artemis doesn't hear him.

It's not her he's trying to tell, anyway.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I like to pretend I own this show. Does that count?

Loyalty

Cam's always known there would be a day when his loyalty was tested; it was something he assumed was unavoidable, a challenge he'd have to face in his transition from villain to hero. In every scenario that crossed his mind, he was torn between his father and his Team.

It never occurred to him that it could be Crystal he was trying to defend.

"Killer Frost has escaped Belle Reve," Batman deadpans, bringing up her statistics.

"How?" he asks. "She's been in solitary confinement since the last break."

"She was unresponsive this morning; they had to take her to the Infirmary on a gurney. They observed her vital signs, and, upon noting that her pulse was extremely low [1], they left her in the care of the nurse, none of whom are given collar controllers."

"Let me guess: miraculous recovery," Wally offers dryly.

"She knocked two nurses unconscious and took a third hostage, threatening to kill her unless the collar was removed."

"There were no guards?" Kaldur inquires.

"They assumed she was unconscious," he returns, but even he says it like he can't believe how stupidly this was handled. Gesturing to the screen, he continues, "The nurse, understandably, agreed to her demands and allowed Frost to escape via the emergency exit before alerting the prison personnel."

"Are we being sent to apprehend her?" The thought of fighting her, the person who spent years helping him with his powers, makes his stomach churn.

"Yes. Her exact location is not known, but she could not have gotten far. You will be going to Louisiana to look for her, before she can inflict any damage to civilians. State police are also on a mass-manhunt; you will be alerted if she is spotted."

With that, they head to the Bio-ship, Megan mumbling something about payback. Cam winces but doesn't comment.

"Well, this should be a fun one," Robin muses, opening his wristwatch computer as he plops into his seat. "Frost was sentenced to solitary for killing one civilian and injuring seven more in the short span of two days."

Wally lets out a low whistle. "Wow. That's…intense."

"Doesn't surprise me," Megan interjects, setting the ship for camouflage mode and taking to the air. "She's heartless."

Cam squirms in his seat and stares out the window, ignoring the back-and-forth of his teammates. All he can think about is being on the opposing side of Crystal.

For nine years of his life, she was as close to a real mom as he had ever had. Unlike his dad, she never hit him when he screwed up, never yelled at him for his mistakes, never made him feel small. It was, in part, due to his powers—it was no secret that she, a true cryokinetic, hated listening to Joar, who only obtained villain-status because of his cold-ray gun, and it must have given her some satisfaction in being able to train his son. Cam, however, knows it's more than just that. Crystal has a strict moral code when it comes to children; they are off-limits, for her and for anyone else with whom she works.

Her compassion towards kids, of course, is often overshadowed by her violence toward anything else. Racking up a higher body count than most villains, male or female, her reputation is that of a 'frigid bitch,' pun intended, and she carries that title with pride.

He's never understood how Crystal and Killer Frost could be the same person. The latter is a murderess, an apathetic monster; the former was his mentor, his friend. That's the reason he's waging this war with himself. No privileges should be extended to her, not after all the lives she's ruined, all the children she left motherless. Still, she's looked out for him, cared about him even when his father didn't, and he can't find it in himself to hurt her.

"Let me talk to her first," he says suddenly, speaking before thinking.

"What?" Artemis swivels in her seat to face him, and the others do the same.

"When we find Crystal, give me a chance to talk with her, alright?" Too late, he realizes he used her real name and not her alias, but there's no back-tracking now. "If I do that, I might get her to come peacefully."

"That, or she'll kill you," Raquel throws out.

"She wouldn't. Trust me. Please."

"You truly believe this is a wise option?" Kaldur asks.

"She'll listen to me."

"So we're just supposed to let you have a nice little chat with a psychopath?" Connor crosses his arms over his chest.

"If you want to put it that way, then yeah, I guess." As doubt crosses more of his teammates' faces, he assures them, "Guys, it'll be fine. And if anything does happen—which it's _not—_you'll be there to back me up."

No one protests, which, by default, means they agree, but the rest of the trip has more silence than conversation, so they can't be completely thrilled with this set-up. He can't quite bring himself to worry over it, though, because he knows he has to do this.

"Guys, get ready." Playing with the computer, Robin continues, "Frost has been located, approximately ten miles from here. Police have kept their distance since she's Justice League priority, but they say she's no longer on the move. They have her collar, when we need it."

"Okay." Facing Cam, Kaldur asks, "You would still like to go through with your plan?"

"Yes."

"Very well. We will let you down first and be waiting to intervene if necessary."

"I don't know about this," Zatanna murmurs. "Frost is really dangerous, and she might be harboring bitter feelings about the last break."

"It'll be fine," he insists, even though he knows she's completely right. "Please, guys, let me do this."

"It can't hurt," Artemis offers.

"Well, it's now or never," Robin interjects. "There she is."

Getting out of his seat, he looks out the window and finds her, pacing slightly in the clearing. Nerves suddenly engulf him, but he's not going to back out now, so he prepares for the descent.

"I'm setting up the mind link, just in case," Megan tells him, helping him with his harness.

Only able to manage a nod, he steadies himself as he plunges downward. Landing about twenty yards from the woman, he takes a deep breath and calls, "Crystal."

Whirling around, arms already encased in ice-swords, she stares at him for a few seconds before she seems to process. Rectifying herself but keeping the swords, she mutters, "Junior. What a surprise that they sent you to come for me. Where's your Kiddie League?"

_Don't tell her we're here,_ Wally says. _Element of surprise._

"They're in wait. In case I can't get you to come willingly."

_Or ignore me. Whatever floats your boat._

She laughs harshly. "Come willingly? Please, kid, you can't think I'm going to go to the Hell without a fight, do you?"

Her voice is threatening, but he knows it's a front; she wouldn't have called him _kid _if it wasn't. "Please, Crystal, there's no way out. Maybe, if you come with me, I can get you some privileges."

"You think I'm going to fall for that? You haven't even _visited _me."

"I was going to," he promises, "but you were in solitaire. They wouldn't let me."

"You're a hero now, remember? You can do whatever you want."

"It doesn't work that way." Risking it, he takes a few steps closer. "I swear, I wanted to. And I will."

"They're going to throw me in the hole again," she predicts darkly. "And I _refuse _to go back."

"I won't let them. I'll, I'll strike a deal, convince them to keep you with the general population. Please, Crystal."

Shaking her head, she raises her arms. "Sorry, kid. I'm not going peacefully."

_Cameron, should we act? _Kaldur's voice rings.

_Not yet_.

Refusing to shift to ice mode, he counters, "I won't fight you."

"Do you think that will stop me?"

_Cam, we really need to—_

_ Do nothing until she actually attacks, _he interrupts Robin.

_So we're just supposed to let her hit you? _Superboy demands.

The logical answer is no, because he knows what damage she can inflict, but after all she's done for him, he's not going to let her get injured unless it's an absolute last resort. _Yes_.

Closing his eyes, he waits. Seconds pass before a loud, agitated sigh prompts him to look. Dismantling her weapons, she grumbles, "Sometimes I can't stand you, Cam."

Smirking despite her words, he returns, "You said my real name."

With a dismissive wave of her hand, she states, "I did before, all the time."

"You stopped."

"Your father insisted that you be addressed by your code name, as though that would do any good."

"Since when did you listen to him?"

"Too often, clearly. Always seems to get me into trouble." After a moment, she mutters, "God, you're so old now."

"I'm only seventeen."

"I've known you since you were eight. That's a long time, kid." Growing thoughtful, she continues, "I always knew you never would've made it as a criminal. Told your dad that trying to get you to be one would bite him in the ass. Never listened to me, of course. But I'm…okay with it. You're where you're supposed to be."

Her genuineness catches him by surprise. "Thanks, Crystal."

She snorts. "It's not going to get me off the hook, is it?"

"Nope."

"Figured. So is this the part where your little sidekick pals haul me to Belle Reve?"

"Pretty much. But we prefer protégés."

"Like I give a crap."

"Let me do the honor of snapping the collar on," Megan declares as the others surround the villainess.

Sneering, she retorts, "Oh, man, I wished I had killed you, you little—"

"Whoa, that won't help your case," Cam interrupts. "Just play it cool for, like, ten seconds, Crystal."

Raquel giggles quietly. "Cool. And she controls _ice_."

Crystal rolls her eyes. "Real cracker-jack team you joined, kid. Shaking right now."

Before anything can escalate, the cops approach, guns drawn. Without instruction, she puts her hands on the back of her head and waits, flinching slightly when the chief-of-police places the collar around her neck. Wanting to keep his end of the bargain, Cam jumps in, "Make sure she isn't sent to solitary; Justice League orders."

Skeptically, the chief demands, "Really?"

"Yes. She's to be kept with general population."

Though he doesn't seem to believe this, the chief mutters, "Whatever," and starts to lead her away. Glancing over her shoulder, she mouths a quick, _Thanks_.

Maybe he shouldn't have done this. Maybe he should cut all ties with the villain community, not matter what. It would definitely help his reputation if there was no question of what side he was on. He can't do that, though. Even though he's a hero, he's not going to abandon his family, not if he can help it.

[1]= Because of her powers, her pulse should naturally be low. She just used this to her advantage to play the sick card.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own this show. Fortunately, I am not Jean Craighead George.

Confidence

Cam stares at the Calculus problems, struggling to even begin to answer them. He's been at this the whole day, and it still isn't any easier. The first time he's come across something he just doesn't comprehend, it's a crippling blow to his damaged self-esteem. After his insistence that Crystal be sent back to her cell rather than solitary, the prison personal had alerted the League, questioning if this was the right choice. Batman had been the one to receive the call, and he, in addition to Dinah, had talked to him about being careful of treading the line. Although they knew he was a hero—Dinah had said that every other sentence, and even Batman offered his agreement once—it was dangerous showing any favoritism to the villains. Eyes never able to meet theirs, all he could do was nod. With nightmares still plagued by the woman he couldn't save, this blunder was not boasting his self-assurance.

Calculus is just the icing on the cake.

Grabbing the book, he hurls it at the wall, satisfied with the impact. Wolf lazily lifts his head, but, upon realizing it is nothing, goes back to his resting position.

"You're lucky, boy," Cam mutters, reaching down to pet him. "You guys don't have to do math."

Wolf nudges his hand, a sign of understanding.

"Thanks, buddy."

Suddenly, the canine's ears perk, and his attention becomes glued to the door.

"What's a matter? Little Johnny caught in the well again?" Stretching, Cam stands and decides to investigate, glad for any reason to get away from the demonic branch of numbers. A few feet out of his room, he faintly hears someone calling his name.

"Hello?"

Half a minute passes, and he's about to chalk it up to sheer insanity when Billy comes running down the hall, grinning. "Hi, Cam!"

The sight of the kid is enough to bright Cam's mood. "Hey, little dude. What's going on?"

"Not much. Felt like taking you up on your offer to come by whenever."

"Any particular reason you wanted to play Marco Polo rather than just come and get me?"

With a shrug, he explains, "I didn't know which room was yours, so I just figured I'd keep saying your name till I found you. And look, it worked." Not giving the teen a chance to respond, he continues, "So, what do you want to do? Can we go back to the park like we were supposed to? Please?"

"If you want."

With a cheer, the child runs ahead, the cryokinetic right behind him. Once outside, Cam takes the lead and says, "Tell me what's going on with you, kid."

"We're reading this awful book in English, _My Side of the Mountain_. It is so dumb! And everyone else is all, 'Oh, this is the bestest book ever,' and I'm just like, 'Uh, no, it's not,' and then everyone gets mad and the teacher's trying to have a 'discussion' about it but there's nothing to discuss and I hate it!"

"So, not really feeling English right now, huh?"

"You don't even _know_ how much I can't stand this."

His thoughts wander to the wounded textbook on the floor of his room. "Trust me, I get the idea. What's so bad about it?"

Billy launches into an explanation, giving what seem to be page-by-page reasons for its dreadfulness. The words are coming out of his mouth in a jumbled heap, and Cam can only catch bits and pieces, but from the coherency he does gather, he concludes there's something about a mountain and a hawk and dead rabbits and a level of unrealism that should classify this as fantasy, not realistic fiction. Billy's still ranting when they arrive at the playground, and Cam's so focused that he doesn't notice they have company until something is clinging to his leg.

"I knew you'd come back," Cassie says, looking up and smiling.

"Told you I would." Smirking, he adds, "Someone lost her baby tooth."

She nods furiously, but before she can continue, the others are surrounding him and talking all at once.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, one at a time!"

"Who's dat?" Mikey's voice cuts through the rest as he nods in the direction of Billy, who is staring at the group suspiciously.

"That's Billy. He's….erm, he's my cousin."

"Cools." With that, Mikey provides a rapid meet-and-greet, ending with, "Wanna go on the swings?"

There's a moment of hesitation, as though the young superhero isn't sure if these are to be friends or enemies. Finally, he relents, "Okay."

The eight run forward, but Billy sticks with a walk, keeping pace with Cam. "How do you know these guys?"

"Met them a while back. Now c'mon, slowpoke."

He tousles his hair affectionately and dodges retaliation, throwing himself into one of the open seats. Billy immediately takes the swing next to him, seeming to anticipate that the other children are going to snatch his friend away. His demeanor changes soon enough, and by the time Peter suggests kickball, Mickey has already dibbed Billy to be on his team.

Cam, once again, takes automatic pitcher, mediating the minor dispute over how fair the teams are. The rest of the game goes without a hitch, Mikey's team managing a slim victory over the other. Deciding that this is a good enough time to head back—he has no plans on ever meeting their mothers, even if Billy is there to decrease his Creeper level—he says, "We have to be going, guys."

They all whine before surrounding him, each clamoring to give him a hug. It takes a few minutes and numerous promises to come back, but he and Billy are finally able to leave.

"That was interesting," Billy offers.

"What? Don't tell me you've never been adored by a group of kids."

"Guess I'm just not as awesome as you."

"You can say that again."

Sticking his tongue out at Cam, he continues, "They were nice."

"You didn't think they would be? Is that why you were so weird at first?"

"I wasn't weird," he protested, insulted.

"Were, too. It was like you didn't want anything to do with them."

Kicking at a loose pebble, he mutters, "Maybe I just thought it was going to be you and me."

He stops dead, and the ten-year-old bumps into his back. "Dude. Were you jealous?"

"No! Well, maybe. A little. Only a _first_."

"But why?"

"I dunno," he offers with a shrug. "Just because."

"You are one strange little dude."

"Am not!"

"Are, too," he teases, shoving him gently.

"Mean!" Billy shouts, jumping onto his back.

Cam only laughs and shifts his weight a bit so he's easier to carry. The inner turmoil isn't gone—it's still nagging him, in the very back of his mind—but it isn't crushing him. The _you're not good enough_'s and the _you aren't a real hero_'s have quieted. He's not perfect, not even close, but maybe, it's okay if he's not.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: Still in Cartoon Network's possession. Still on hiatus.

Hopeless

He cradles Artemis in his arms, fingers on her neck just so he can feel her heartbeat and know she's alive. There's a nasty gash on her forehead, the cause of her unconsciousness, and budding bruises along her stomach and limps. Underneath an ice dome, he's shifted to normality, something he's never done on a mission, but it's not like Artemis has ever been hurt like this. Even out of hero mode, his cool skin against hers prompts small shivers to shake her body.

It's only luck—if he dare even call it that—that he was closest to her when she was injured. The others are scattered, taking down the last of the enemies, and it's going to be a few minutes until they can head back to the ship. Wally's worried thoughts are bouncing around his skull, and he's trying to soothe him, but he knows the speedster won't relax until the she is safely in his arms.

As Cam holds her, taking in her features, he doesn't want to let her go. The love he's been holding back is burning within him because she's right there in front of him, so beautiful, and she's hurt and she _needs _him, and he'd do everything for her, anything she asked of him, and why can't she see that?

"Cam! Cam!"

That's why. Her real hero. The boy she loves, the boy who loves her. The boy who deserves her.

With a quick wave of his free hand, the ice melts around him, and Wally rushes forward, arms outstretched. Hiding his reluctance, Cam shifts her to Wally. Immediately, she stops trembling, nestling her head into his stomach. There's a sharp pain in the cryokinetic's chest, but he forces a smile to his face anyway. "We won?"

"Cops are getting them now." Getting to his feet, Wally tenderly kisses the wound on his girlfriend's face. "It's okay, babe, it's okay."

Swallowing hard, Cam murmurs, "Let's go. Sooner we get there, sooner she can get treated."

Neither talks to the other on the way back, Wally too consumed with whispering sweetly to Artemis and Cam too consumed with keeping his emotions in check. Even though he's seen Wally and Artemis together before, plenty of times, it hurts so much more now because he wants to be the one taking care of her, protecting her, and it's wrong and he's being selfish and he knows he shouldn't be feeling this way but he can't stop himself.

When they get to the ship, Artemis is laid down on one of the chairs, and Robin starts to tend to her wounds while Megan mans the controls. Wally is right by the archer's side, hand holding hers. There's another stabbing pain, and Cam takes a seat as far as he dares, staring at the world rather than his best friend. ETA is ten minutes when a soft groan greets his ears. In spite of himself, he whirls around to see Artemis sitting up slowly, inspecting the bandage. The next instant, Wally is pulling her into a tight hug. An angry, hurt, _jealous _part of him wants to find something wrong, something that would prove that he'd be a better boyfriend, but there's nothing, because Wally's perfect for her and that's why she's with him, will always be with him.

"Hey, Frostbite, get your ass over here."

Managing a smirk, he obeys and takes a seat beside. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Rapunzel."

She rolls her eyes at him and gives him a gentle shove. "All part of the plan. A distraction."

"Oh, yeah, okay. Thanks for letting me in on the plan."

"Hey, you're use to saving me by now. It's your basic instincts. I knew you'd be there for me."

The others laugh and continue talking to her, but Cam's shut himself off from the conversation. The pride he feels over her compliment is countered by overwhelming sadness because that's all he'll ever be to her, the best friend who has her back. And it's not like that's a bad thing, it's a fricking great thing, but he doesn't want to be just that. He wants her to love him like he loves her, has loved her since the first time they met, and it kills him that she doesn't. After everything they've been through, all their history, old and new, he doesn't understand why she only sees him as a friend, why he can't be good enough for her. Maybe if he was smarter, if he switched sides sooner, if he fought against the beatings as a kid…

_What if games are bad_, he can hear Dinah saying. _You shouldn't focus on things you can't change_.

He has no other option, though, because there's nothing he can change now, not without causing Artemis to break-up with Wally. And no matter how much he wants to be with her, he would never want that because he's good to her, he's what she needs, and he would never have her lose that just for his own happiness.

When they arrive at the Cave, Artemis is led to the Infirmary, despite her insistence that really, she's just fine. Batman congratulates them, at least as much as the vigilante can, and permits them to leave. Wally hauls it in the direction of the medical wing, and Cam retreats to his bedroom, fighting the urge to follow. He drops onto his bed and grabs his iPod—a gift from Dinah—and blasts the music. The first song that plays is Nickelback's "Far Away," and if it didn't hurt so much to hear, Cam would've laughed.

He should move on. Pining after her isn't doing him any good, and it's not healthy, he's pretty sure. Besides, she has the boy of her dreams, and he should be happy with that. He can't, though, because she was the light of his life all those years ago, still is, and he cannot see himself with any other girl, no matter how hard he tries or how many times he tells himself that he has to.

Hours pass, and when his thoughts are no longer silenced by the music, he allows himself to go check if Artemis is still in the Infirmary. She's probably not, and even if she is, she must be asleep by now.

He's wrong on both counts.

"Hey, Cam." She sits up in bed. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just thought I'd see if you were here. Is the cut that bad?"

"No, they're just overreacting." Moving over, she pats the side of the bed. "C'mon, sit."

"I'm good," he insists, ignoring every urge to agree and opting instead to take a seat in one of the chairs. "You alright?"

Rolling her eyes, she returns, "I've taken plenty worse. Seriously, you're almost as bad as Wally."

"I just want you to be okay." It flies from his mouth before he can bite it back.

Her eyes soften. "I know. And it means a lot to me. Thanks, Cam."

"What are best friends for?" he asks, and it tastes bitter.

"You wanna sleep with me?"

The opportunity too good to pass up, he jokes, "I'm not sure Wally would be okay with that."

The head wound doesn't decrease the strength of her punches. "You're a riot. Seriously, though, you want to?"

He should say no. He really, really should say no. But he can't.

Wordlessly, he lies beside her, on top of the covers, like always. They talk for a few minutes until her sentences become more and more spaced apart before stopping completely. Sleep won't come to him, not that he's surprised, and all he can do is think about all the things he'll never tell her.

_I love you_. It tiptoes on his tongue. _I love you and I have always loved you and I will always love you._

He doesn't speak it aloud, for her sake and for his.

That doesn't make the pain stop.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: If I say yes, will that make it true?

Deserving

Cam stares at the street as he and Dinah head to the zeta-beam transporter. Thanks to them, the police are handling a group of would-be assassins, sent by the Imperial Region to eliminate the CEOs of a company working for the federal government's surveillance department. The victory is tainted, though, because he did nothing: three of the six men were his, but he allowed himself to be blind-sided barely a minute into the fight. Too focused on one, he wasn't prepared for the other behind him. When he gained consciousness, head still throbbing from contact with the floor, Dinah had already secured the criminals.

Her asking him if he was alright has been the only conversation. He doesn't want to talk right now, and he's sure that she doesn't want to talk to him. Each tentative glance in her direction solidifies his belief that she's angry, and she has every right to be because he was so _stupid_. Being pulled from patrol duty seems imminent, and it wouldn't be any surprise if she yells at him before he goes to the Cave.

From his peripheral vision, he notices that she's tenderly rubbing her upper arm, as though it's bruised. Hoping to redeem himself, if only a little, the teen places a hand on the wounded area. With a gasp, Dinah jerks away.

"I-I'm sorry," he stutters. "I just t-thought—"

"No, Cam, it's fine," she assures him. "You startled me, that's all."

"I'm sorry," he repeats, an impulse reaction. Apologize as many times as possible, even though it probably means nothing.

"For what?"

At first, he wonders if she's using the same tactic his dad had, forcing him to admit what he'd done wrong, but he knows she's not that cruel. "I messed up."

"Do you really think I would be angry with you over one slip-up?"

"One slip-up? I totally sucked. I didn't do anything right."

"You're going to have off nights every now and then. You can't expect yourself to be perfect."

"So you're really not mad at me?"

"Of course not." Ceasing her walk, she turns to stare at him, but the look on her face isn't the therapist one he's grown accustomed to. It's like she is watching a sad ASPCA commercial and all the poor, beaten animals nobody wants. The brief flare of anger he has is exterminated by his own inner acknowledgement that the description fits him well enough.

With a small shrug, he mumbles, "Only checking."

"You know, Cam, it's pretty late. You should stay the night."

The excuse is weak, considering there are ten minutes to midnight and he's returned to the Cave a lot later than this before. Still, he doesn't want to argue, in case that will be all that's needed to push her over the edge.

When they get to her place, she nods in the direction of the kitchen, saying, "I want to talk to you a little, okay?"

Expecting this, he nods and trails behind her, shifting to normalcy and taking a seat at the table. After flicking on the lights, she sits beside him. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he offers, speaking to his hands.

"Why were you so convinced that I would be upset with you?"

"Don't know," he lies, shifting uncomfortably. There are a lot of things he's willing to tell her, but this is treading a line, crossing into territory that has only been shared with Artemis.

"Your father got angry easily, didn't he?"

"I guess," he returns, his voice uneven.

"Would he…hit you?"

"Yeah." Digging his nails into his palm, he quickly explains, "It didn't happen a lot. Just when I did something wrong during training or a mission. And he only did it because I had to get better."

"Get better?"

"Stronger. Tougher."

There's a moment of silence, which makes his stomach churn. Very rarely does Dinah pause when she's talking to him like this. "Were you expecting to be…punished for what happened tonight?"

"I knew you wouldn't hit me."

"That's not what I asked." Her voice is gentle and soft and so very sad.

"I thought you'd yell at me," he admits. "Take me off of patrol duty for awhile."

"Cameron, I would never do that. You are going to make mistakes. You're human."

"I can't afford to make mistakes."

_"What is wrong with you?" A fist connects with his jaw, and he staggers backwards. "How can you not follow simple instruction?"_

_"I'm sorry," he whimpers._

_A punch to the stomach knocks the wind from his body. "Being sorry isn't going to change anything! Get yourself together! Weakness is not tolerated, you understand?"_

_He nods, waiting for the next blow._

_"Answer me, damn it!"_

_"Yes," he whispers, and the beating continues._

"Cameron? Cameron?"

Head snapping up, he focuses on his mentor. "Yeah?"

"You know that what your father did to you was wrong, right?"

Of course he knows it's wrong. Parents don't have the right to do that to their kids, no matter what. Nobody has the right to do that. Still, he finds himself saying, "He did it for my own protection. If I kept making mistakes, I could've gotten myself killed. He just wanted to teach me, it's how I learn, it's my own fault anyway, I can't screw-up—"

"You're talking in present tense."

Any further explanation dies as full realization consumes him. Standing quickly, he mumbles, "Look, I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."

Before she can respond, he leaves, retreating to the spare bedroom, as though that will help him escape the implications of his Freudian slip.

He hated the beatings, hated the harsh words his dad shouted at him, hated feeling so worthless. It was necessary, though, because there was no other way to teach him to survive in the villain world. The only realm of humanity where natural selection still flourished, those who were inferior would not last long. Alliances were fleeting; the law was the enemy; each day lived was just another closer to death. He was naïve and gentle and that wouldn't cut it, and his dad's discipline was only meant to drive that point home. He needed it, really, and it _worked_, obviously, because he's still alive, so maybe it wasn't so awful, in a way. Besides, once the beating was over, his dad wasn't mad anymore.

_He wakes up to the smell of eggs and bacon. Slowly getting to his feet, he shuffles downstairs, each step irritating one contusion or another._

_"Hi, Cameron," he dad greets quietly._

_"Hi," he returns, managing eye contact._

_"You okay?"_

_He nods, but as he sits down, a rush of pain sweeps over him, and he can't help but wince. Seeing the movement, his dad approaches and asks, "Where does is hurt the worst?"_

_Gesturing to his ribs, he lifts his shirt, displaying a violet and black splash of color against his pale skin. There's a barely-audible sigh from the elder cryokinetic, who places his hand on the top of his son's head and, for the briefest second, ruffles his hair. It's all the apology Cam needs._

Footsteps bring him to current day, and he watches as Dinah enters the room. "I figured you'd come," he murmurs, trying to smile, but it feels wrong.

"I know you don't want to talk about this," she begins, joining him on the bed, "but we have to. What happened to you as a kid has affected you, whether you want to admit that or not." After a moment, she continues, "I'm going to ask you a question, and I need you to be perfectly honest. Promise me?"

"I promise."

"Do…do you think you deserve to be punished?"

For a second, he forgets how to breathe. Biting the inside of his cheek, he tells the pillow, "Yes."

"Cam—"

"It's just, it's just what I'm used to, okay? Failure isn't tolerated and he didn't want to hurt me, he had to, for my own good, and, and it was how I learned, how I lived, a-and if I just did _better_ he wouldn't have to do it and I deserve it for failing—"

Her hands are gripping his shoulders, and she's turned him so that he can't look away. "Cameron, you never, ever deserve to be hit. It is not a learning technique. It is abuse, and it is wrong. I understand why your father did it, but that doesn't make it right. You have convinced yourself that what he did to you was okay because you love him, but it's not. You do not learn through being punished." She pulls him into a hug. "Please, Cam, you have to believe that."

"I do," he mumbles. "Logically, I mean. It's…I…he just…"

"I get it, Cam, I really do. Your father did what he did because he thought it would help you survive. But you have to get that you did not deserve anything that happened to you. You were a victim of circumstance. The life you had forced you to adapt, but that life is over now. No one is going to punish you ever again for making a mistake. That is not how you have to learn. That is _not _how you learn. You are so important, Cam." Kissing the top of his head, she repeats, "You are so important."

"Thank you," he whispers, pressing himself closer to her, taking in her comfort and her warmth and her love.

Maybe he hasn't fully escaped his past, but if she keeps helping him, he might be able to do it.


	27. Chapter 27

AN: New theory—Season Two is actually a simulation, like the one from "Failsafe." The League wanted to try again, to see if there was improvement, but Megan still loses it, and Martian Manhunter can't snap them out of it.

Disclaimer: If I had any control, the above wouldn't be a theory.

Upside

There's a definite perk to being the only one on the Team who doesn't have a significant other.

When he sees them getting all lovey-dovey, or when there's just an opportunity to make a highly inappropriate joke, he immediately jumps on it, knowing full-well that they won't be able to respond in like. It's not the most mature thing to do, but it gets a good laugh from the others, and the reaction on his victims' faces it totally worth it.

As awful as it sounds, the ones he goes after the most are Robin and Zatanna. It's not that he finds picking on kids younger than him funny or anything—they just get the most flustered. Zatanna's eyes go wide and her mouth opens and closes real quick, and Robin turns bright red and scrunches in on himself, like he's trying to hide.

Despite all the times he's called them out, the most memorable was when the two had snuck off after training, and he had found them swapping spit on the couch. Pulling a ninja of his own, he silently approached before booming, "_What _are you two doing?!"

Yelping, the magician threw herself off of her boyfriend, landing on the floor, while the acrobat started to bury himself in the cushions.

Clicking his tongue, Cam scolded, "Can't keep your hormones in check, can you? And in the Cave, too! Shame, shame, shame."

"Cam," Robin whined.

"We were just—"

Raising his hand, the seventeen-year-old countered, "I saw quite clearly what you two were doing, young lady. He was practically eating your face!" From the corner of his eye, he saw that the rest of the Team had found its way into the living room, and it took all his self-control to his face stern. "Really, heroes like yourselves? Acting like everyday hooligans?"

"We were kissing!"

"Kissing? _Kissing_?! No, Robin, you were attempting to inhale her."

Whining again, he somehow shrunk even further, a tiny little splotch of color on the furniture.

Getting to her feet, Zatanna mumbled, "It was nothing."

"Oh, it was something all right! You start out with kissing, all of a sudden you're pregnant! Are you ready for that?!"

A couple of poorly-concealed snickers erupted from the peanut gallery. Stuttering, Zatanna managed, "We're, we're not, ew, Cam, we're not—"

"You might not be doing anything right now, but he is a thirteen-year-old boy and _I _know, for certain, what he wants to do!" Glaring at the Boy Wonder, frozen in his spot, the cryokinetic instructed, "To your room, young man, to think about your actions."

Without a word, he obeyed, untangling himself and taking the walk of humiliation, ignoring his six friends as he walked past them. He stayed in his room for a full minute before bursting out, remembering who had issued his punishment and being utterly indignant.

After Robin and Zatanna, the next best targets are Raquel and Kaldur. Opposites in disposition—fun-loving vs. wisely mature—it's an interesting set-up. He's never caught them doing anything, other than a swift peck on the cheek or fingers trailing along an arm, so he just amps up his dirty mind and goes from there.

Before training officially started one morning, Raquel came into the arena, sucking on a lollypop. No one had bothered asking why she was having candy at eight-fifty in the morning, and really, Cam couldn't have cared less. Observing her as she sloppily enjoyed her prize, he smirked and offered, "You're really liking that, aren't you, Raquel?"

"Yup," she replied.

"I mean, you're really going at it, you know?"

Robin caught on first, a devilish grin crossing his face.

"Even this early in the morning—impressive, actually. Ready anytime, anyplace."

Wally raised an eyebrow, nodded slightly, and pointed in Cam's direction, clearly indicating _I See What You Did There._

"Found it this morning in my backpack; got it few days ago in class for some review game or whatever. And it's my favorite flavor."

"Favorite flavor, you say? Interesting. I don't know many that like it."

Artemis punched him in the shoulder while Zatanna giggled behind her hand. Raquel was contently oblivious, and Cam was contemplating how to decrease his subtly when she suddenly bit down. Bingo.

"Watch out, Kaldur. She's a biter."

With a gasp, Raquel started choking on the candy, and Kaldur's gills suddenly flared, which Cam could only assume was a sign of embarrassment. He got his ass handed to him by the merman during combat, but it was totally worth it.

Going after Megan and Connor is a little trickier. Being a Martian whose Earthly information comes from a G-rated show, Megan just doesn't get sexual implications. Her boyfriend, programmed with everything _but _knowledge of innuendoes, isn't much better. Still, he tries.

They were all hanging out in the kitchen, Megan pouring over a cook book because she was dead-set on perfecting a new recipe. Paying more attention to Wolf than the conversation she was having with Zatanna, he almost missed her say, "I think I'll try sixty-nine."

"Wait, what?" he asked, wanting to be sure before he continued.

"Sixty-nine," she repeats. "I think it would be really good. It's a little spicy, but I can tone that down."

"Tone it down? Never. The hotter, the better."

With a groan, Artemis rolled her eyes while Robin and Wally burst into hysterics. Before Cam could really get into it, though, Connor demanded, "Is there some sort of sex reference here?"

"Why would you ever ask such a thing?" he inquired innocently.

"Because I know you well enough. And because those two don't laugh for absolutely no reason."

"Connor, buddy, pal, I am only saying that if your sweet, lovely girlfriend would like to try sixty-nine, you should support her. Heck, it might even be good for you."

When Raquel let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a cackle and Zatanna couldn't keep herself from grinning, Connor growled in frustration and stormed out of the room. Megan stood there, blinking in confusion, until Kaldur gently prompted her to continue with what she was doing. Three days later, Connor practically broke Cam's door down storming into his room, now knowing full-well what sixty-nine meant because he'd asked his friends from school and they were more than happy to explain, once they had finished making fun of him, that is. It took three hours for Megan to notice he was missing and another half an hour to locate him, crammed into the equipment closet of one of the gyms.

Teasing Artemis and Wally is a little more…delicate. If she hadn't been raped, it wouldn't be a big deal; Hell, he'd do it as often as he could. She has been, though, and he never wants to upset her, so he keeps his jokes quiet almost all the time. Of course, he has little qualms about embarrassing Wally.

They were all hanging out one night when Artemis stood to grab something across the room. By chance, Cam had glanced at the speedster, who was _clearly _staring at Artemis's…assets. Getting to his feet, he took a place behind Wally and demanded, "What are you looking at?"

Jumping a foot in the air, he whipped around, eyes wide. "Uh, n-nothing."

"Nothing," Cam repeated, exaggerating the disgust in his voice. "Want to try that again?"

"I-I-I-I…she's my g-girlfriend—"

"So that gives you the right to ogle her?!"

"No," he squeaked, cowering.

Leaning back in his seat, Robin smirked, arm slinking around Zatanna's shoulder.

"Cam, drop it," Artemis instructed, but he could tell that she thought this was funny.

"You disgust me!" he barked. "You should love her for her, not her body!"

"Yeah, Wally, God," Raquel threw in.

With a whimper, Wally slid to the floor and crouched in the fetal position.

"What are you doing?" his girlfriend inquired.

"This is what you're supposed to do when you're about to get attacked."

"I'm not going to _attack _you—I'm simply going to follow through with my threat."

Artemis, running her hand down her face like she couldn't quite believe this was happening, interrupted the tirade by instructing, "Heel, Cam, heel."

Obeying, he returned to his normal spot, shooting one last warning look Wally's way. The ginger didn't so much as hug Artemis that night.

Yeah, sometimes being the odd-one out is beneficial.


	28. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: If this was mine, I'd give you all new episodes for the holidays.

Downside

Sometimes, it's really hard being the only single one on the Team.

Most weekends are spent at the Cave, playing with Wolf and watching mind-numbing television, pretending that he doesn't feel like a loser for not having plans. Even though someone always asks him to do something, it goes unsaid that the significant other will also be there. And it's totally normal because _duh, _they're dating, and with school and clubs and work and hero business, there's really no other times for them to hang out. That means he declines the offer with a smile, saying that he has to Enter Excuse Here. Being the third-wheel is not his style, because as much as he loves these guys, watching them make out is not his idea of a fun night.

Even when they're all together, he feels a little distanced. Kaldur and Raquel have these inside jokes, Robin and Zatanna are always making goo-goo eyes at each other, Megan and Connor speak via a personal link, and Wally and Artemis are either teasing one another or holding hands. And yeah, it's kinda cute, and it's nice to see them so happy, but it stings knowing that he'll probably never have a connection like that (_because the only girl he'll ever want is giggling at whatever the redhead is saying)_.

The worst, however, is when they're on a rough mission and everything is just going to Hell and none of them are getting out without some sort of injury and when they return to the ship, battered and bruised and so fricking tired, the last person to be checked on is him. Sure, there's, like, a five second difference, but he notices it nonetheless. The boyfriends ask about their girlfriend at the same moment they ask about them, and then there's him, on the fringe. Artemis immediately turns his way _(once she knows that Wally's okay)_ and fusses over him, but he's not the tip-top of her priority list _(and he shouldn't be) _and he can't ignore that.

There was one particularly brutal mission, when they faced off against a slew of Gotham criminals—yeah, they don't know how they got stuck with that task, either—and barely managed a victory. On the way home, Connor was freaking out over a nasty set of bruises crossing Megan's torso, Zatanna was tending to the gash on Robin's thigh, Kaldur and Raquel were speaking softly, his fingers dancing along her throbbing wrist, and Artemis was investigating Wally's three busted ribs. And just the fact that they had someone to care about them so much stung, salt in the wound, because even though they kept asking if he was feeling alright, he wouldn't have that attention, that devotion, from anyone. _(And he sounds like a whiny, selfish child but he can't control that emotion.) _Despite the agonizing throbbing in his skull, he insisted he was fine; it was only when they got back and he hurled all over the floor—in front of the Big Bad Bat, of course—did they realize that he actually had a concussion.

"Christ, Cam, why didn't you say anything?" Artemis had questioned, gently wiping the corner of his mouth as she helped him to the Infirmary.

And he just shrugged and gave his goofy grin because how was he supposed to answer that?

Red Tornado glanced their way, turning his attention from Wally's newly-wrapped ribs. "Will you be needing my assistance?"

"I got it," Artemis assured the android.

"Very well then. Goodnight."

As Artemis pushed Cam onto one of the bed, Wally asked, "What's wrong, Cam?"

"Concussion," he explained, rubbing at his temples.

Letting out a low whistle, the ginger pressed, "How do you know?"

"Frost Bite just threw up," Artemis said.

"Crap. Where?"

"Debriefing," he grumbled, not wanting to relive it.

Wally's eyebrows shot up. "In front of everyone?"

Blushing, the cryokinetic muttered, "Maybe."

Wally covered his mouth with his hand, like he was trying not to laugh, and Artemis smacked his arm, hard. "It's not funny, Bay Watch!"

Whining, he protested, "Hey, I'm hurt. Have a little sympathy."

With a roll of her eyes, she took a seat next to him _(not that Cam cared, he didn't, really)_ and murmured, "I know that. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Won't be able to walk right for a while."

"You barely walk right now."

And there he was, just watching them, not belonging, when she seemed to remember what had been her reason for venturing into the Infirmary to begin with. "Are you feeling okay, Cam? How bad's the headache?"

"Eh," he returned. "Get me on some Vicodin and I'll be A-OK."

"Yeah, you need to be on heavy drugs." Standing, she rummaged in the cabinets and pulled out Tylenol. "Here. I'll get you water."

"No, don't worry 'bout it." Placing the pills in his mouth, he mustered up a good amount of spit and swallowed. "Ta da."

She made a face while Wally cracked up. "Dude! So sick!"

"Thank you, thank you." After taking his bows, he flopped down, pillow cushioning his head.

"No way, Frost Bite." Artemis grabbed him by the upper arm and forced him up. "You can't sleep with a concussion. Permanent damage and all that."

"But I'm tired, Artemis," he protested, pouting and trying a puppy-dog face.

"I know you are, Cam, but it's too dangerous. Look, I'll stay up with you."

"Hey, what about me?" Wally stuck out his lower lip. "I have boo-boos, too."

Placing a hand over her eyes, she muttered, "My God, I feel like I'm your baby-sitter. Here, compromise: I'll sit with Wally until he falls asleep, then sit with Cam until it's safe for him to sleep. Better?"

They agreed, and Artemis sat beside her boyfriend and Cam tried so hard not to be jealous _(because she's happy, God, she's so in love with him, and that makes him happy, it does, he swears) _and waited for his turn to be with her. And just watching them together, how they interacted, made his throat feel real tight because he wanted that, _wants_ that kind of relationship, someone to be by his side no matter what. And he knows he has it with Artemis, in a way, because she stayed up with him until six in the morning, when his pupils were finally no longer dilated, but it was Wally's bed she went to as he was drifting off to sleep and Wally's lips she kissed instead of his.

He's not alone—he can't be because he has great friends and an awesome mentor and he's so grateful—but sometimes, it feels that way.


	29. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: My Cam would be cannon if I owned this show.

Trolling

Leaning against the wall, Cam blinks a few times so his eyes adjust to the darkness and watches Roy tug furiously on the doorknob.

"You know, Red, I don't think that's working."

Growling, he whirls around and spits, "Don't call me Red. And excuse me for not wanting to be stuck in here with you."

"Ouch, Red, that hurts." He places a hand to his chest in feigned hurt. "What have I ever done to you?"

"You were a villain for the past nine years."

"I said _to you_, didn't I?"

With a frustrated shake of his head, Roy refocuses on the closet door and attempts to break it down, throwing his full weight against it.

"Dude, you really want to break it?"

"I want to get out of here and kill Robin and Wally."

"Wow, picking on the children."

"Children? You mean minor demons. And they wonder why I prefer hanging out with Kaldur instead of them! _He _has the maturity to not lock me in a fricking closet!"

"Red—"

"Call me Red _one more time _and you will regret it!"

"Whoa, there, buddy. Let's review one thing, shall we: I have the ability to control my environment's temperature. Your body can only last so long after it drops to a certain point. Wanna see how well I manipulate my surroundings?"

"Is that a threat?" he demands, glaring.

"I prefer to think of it as a promise."

Grumbling something incoherent, Roy presses his ear to the door and grunts, "I can hear them laughing at me."

"Us. Laughing at us."

"No, me. They know you won't get frazzled like me."

"Because I'm so _cool_?"

"Lame."

"I know." Tapping his chin in thought, he says, "I have an idea, Roy. You want their plan to backfire on them?"

"Where is this going?"

In response, he leans his head back and groans, "Oh, Roy, _yes_!"

"What are you _doing_?" the ginger demands, his hand finding the younger teen's throat. "I swear to God, I will kill you and not one juror will find me guilty!"

"Calm down," he gurgles weakly, ice frosting his fingertips as he presses them firmly against his assailant. When the archer retracts, Cam nurses the bruised flesh and explains, "Think about it, Red. They'll be so freaked out."

"How is this backfiring, exactly?"

"Oh, my dimwitted friend, it's quite simple—they're doing this to razzle you, you do this to razzle them. Besides, it would be funny."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"How old are you?"

"Uh, you started this, remember?"

Somehow, Cam can feel Roy glowering at him. "You are so weird, you know that?"

"Why, yes, I do. But thank you for noticing my wonderful trait. So, are you in?"

"No."

"C'mon, it's not like we have anything else to do. Live a little."

"It's childish and stupid."

"Always trolled, never a troll. Don't have the guts, Red?"

For a second, he's afraid that Roy's going to slug him, but he instead hisses, "You want more, Cam?"

Smirking, he murmurs, "That a boy, Red," before moaning, "More, yes, more!"

"You like this?" he demands quietly.

"So much," he returns.

"Your voice is really high," he mutters under his breath. "You want this to work? Keep it realistic."

"Oh, I'm so sorry I haven't perfected my sex voice. I'll work on that with my non-existent girlfriend."

"Sounds like a personal problem, Cam. Now keep going."

"I want it rough!"

Roy gags and stares at him like he's lost his mind. With a shrug, Cam proposes, "I've had a traumatic childhood; it kind a makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Wow, you just seriously freaked me out and depressed me in the same instant. Way to shoot down my mood."

"Oh, you were in the mood? God, I'm good."

Bristling, Roy punches him in the upper arm. Playing off of it, he grunts, "Oh, just like that. Yes!"

"You are sick, you know that?" In the next breath, he booms, "You're all mine, Cameron. And there's no escaping me."

"Oh, and I'm the sick one? And what's with using my whole name? _Cam _isn't good enough for you?"

Ignoring him, Roy continues, "Just like that. Just like that. Yes. _Yes_."

"Dude…you're a little too good at this." Unable to control himself, he blurts, "You've totally had sex before!"

"Have not!" he retorts hotly, clearly struggling to keep his voice low.

"You've done it with Cheshire!"

"How the Hell do you know that I'm dating her?" Answering his own question, he growls, "Artemis. Does she tell you everything?"

"Close to it. Man, what is it with the Crock girls and redheads?"

"Can you focus?"

"I am focusing. So, tell me about it."

"No way, you little pervert!"

"She's into that kinky stuff, isn't she? Bondage and all?"

"What is your problem?"

"I have no problem. Watching you blush like this is absolutely hilarious."

"Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Hey, I'm still helping you out, aren't I? Now, back to the point: she's totally on top, isn't she?"

Roy shoves him against the wall. It's not done with full strength—it still hurts like a bitch, but it doesn't knock the wind out of him, so he knows it could have been worse—but he decides to play it up. "Oh, yes, Roy! Harder! Harder!"

"You're going to need to talk to Dinah about your issues; I hope you know that."

"I'll talk about mine when you talk about yours. I think it says a lot that you like to get it on with a girl who makes a living my killing people and likes to strut around in a cat mask. Hey, does she wear it in bed? Is that your turn-on?"

There's so much blood rushing to Roy's face that it cannot possibly be healthy, and he's about to strangle him with his bare hands when the doorknob starts to jerk, like someone's unlocking it from the outside. Meeting one another's eyes, the two teens silently agree to take the charade to the final level. Roy grabs Cam's arms and pulls him close, way to close in all other circumstances, and their foreheads touch. The door swings open, and the turn from each other to see Dinah and Ollie.

Both Star City archers have gaping mouth and wide eyes, and Roy shoves Cam away as he stutters, "O-Ollie, I can totally explain."

"Roy." He coughs uncomfortably. "Do we…need to talk?"

"No! No, Ollie, please—"

"Because I wouldn't judge—"

"Nothing was happening!"

Cam glances at his mentor, who's clearly trying not to laugh. She gives him a quick nod, a sign that he can leave, and he immediately retreats, Roy and Ollie's discussion playing in the background. He heads to the living room, where Wally and Robin are waiting for him, giant grins on their faces.

"Dude, that was awesome," Wally says as Robin loses as composure and bursts out laughing. "I can't believe he went for it!"

"I can't believe Dinah didn't tell Ollie what was going on," Robin manages between cackles.

"She's cool like that."

"It was still risky, telling her ahead of time."

Waving his hand at the speedster, the cryokinetic insists, "Naw, I knew she'd go along with it. And she's a therapist, so there was no way I was going to go through with this if I thought there was a chance of me having to sit down and talk about my feelings."

"Either way, this was brilliant. I'm never letting him live this down."

"And Ollie's never going to stop badgering him for at _least _a week," Robin predicts, just as Roy shouts, "It wasn't real!"

"Oh, right, almost forget: Red's getting it on with Cheshire."

"No way!"

"Swear."

Rubbing his hands together mischievously, Robin muses, "Oh, I'm going to get a lot of mileage out of this. Cam, you are a wonderful addition to this Team."

He listens to the debate resounding in the distance. "Yes, I truly think I am."


	30. Chapter 30

AN: New Year's Eve! Party hardy y'all!

Disclaimer: Still on hiatus…

Similar

Cam walks around the bookstore, inspecting the different genres and wondering where Robin disappeared to. Megan had suggested that the Team hang out in town after training, which meant that they all immediately went in different directions. Raquel and Zatanna had broken off first, Raquel dragging Zatanna into a thrift shop, and then Wally had convinced Artemis to go to some chocolate place, probably hoping for free samples. Him and Robin bailed after that.

Turning into the Mystery aisle, he notices a little boy struggling for a book on the top shelf in the Kiddie Corner. Hero instincts kicking in, he walks over and asks, "You need help?"

The kid practically jumps a foot in the air and cowers a little. Putting his arms out in front of him, hoping to come off as nonthreatening, Cam murmurs, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay," he whispers, staring at the floor.

"My name's Cam. What's yours?"

"Aaron."

"You want me to get that book for you?"

"Yes, please."

He takes it down and hands it over, saying, "You must like dogs."

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"This is a book about dogs," he says slowly, now confused.

"It is? I just picked it 'cause I like the color green it is."

Contemplating how to respond, Cam finally inquires, "How old are you?"

"Five."

"So you can't read yet?"

"Not yet. Imma learn, though, in kin-de-garden next year."

"Well, if you can't read, why are you in the bookstore? Where's your…er…an adult?"

"My mom is shopping and she told me to stay here 'cause I annoy her when I'm with her."

The response sickens him. It sounds like something he would have said, when he still lived with her, and that scares him because no child should be stuck with a mother like that. Swallowing his anger, he kneels to Aaron's height and says, "I'll read that to you, if you'd like."

"You'd do that?"

"Sure."

A smile crosses his face. With sudden enthusiasm, all shyness gone, he takes a seat beside the teen. "Okay!"

By the time he's done, the kid is practically in his lap, eyes never leaving the brightly colored pages. Even though it's completely adorable, Cam can only feel this ache in his chest because he knows Aaron doesn't get this attention at home, knows that all the attention is negative, screams and dirty looks, knows that it'll affect him in the years to come. And he can't let that happen, let another kid go through what he did, not if he can help it.

"So, Aaron, your mom…does she leave you alone like this a lot?"

Demeanor shifting, he hunches up and mutters, "Sometimes. She, she only does it 'cause she needs to have time to herself without me getting in the way. I, I'm bad, n-not on purpose or anything, I just, I just make her mad, I don't mean to—"

"I get it," Cam promises quietly, and he does, God, he does. "Is there anyone else in your family?"

"I don't know my dad—she doesn't like him—but my Aunt Ann's real nice. She, she makes me cookies, and she tucks me in when I go over, and she, she doesn't, doesn't yell when I make mistakes."

"She lives close-by?"

"Twenty minutes. Mom takes me there whenever I'm too much of a handful."

That's it. He can't take hearing any more of this, so he says, "I'm going to talk to my friend real quick, okay? Stay right here; I'll be back soon."

Tracking down Robin in the Computer Specialist section—most likely laughing at how these authors are nothing but novices compared to him—Cam taps him on the shoulder. "Look, Robin, I kind of need a favor."

"Sure."

"Can you bring someone who's not registered into the Cave?"

Adjusting his sunglasses, he muses, "Well, sure, but why, exactly?"

"There's this kid. His mom abandoned him."

"Abandoned?"

"Okay, well, not exactly, but she left him alone because she didn't want him with her while she was shopping."

"And what will taking him back to the Cave do?"

"We need to figure out a way to get him out of his mom's custody."

"Cam…we can't just take this kid away from her for this. As wrong as it is, we can't just keep him."

"He's got this aunt, I'd bet she'd take him in. Please, Robin, he can't go back to that woman."

With a small sigh, the acrobat stands. "Alright. Let's go. But if it turns out this kid is actually an assassin-in-training, it's your fault."

"Yeah, okay, I'll keep that in mind. Let's go."

He goes back to Aaron, flipping through the book, and drops to his height. "Aaron, I need you to come with me, okay? It's not safe for you to stay here by yourself."

"Can't you stay with me?"

"Sorry, buddy, I have to go home. But you can come with me and my friend."

"I, I, I'm not supposed to go with strangers, a-and she said that I'm not allowed to leave, and—"

"Well, I'm not a stranger." Leaning closer, he whispers, "In fact, I'm a hero. You know Ice? From the news?"

His mouth snaps open. "No way."

Cam, all caution thrown to the wind, allows ice to creep along his arm. "See? So trust me, okay?"

"Okay!"

With a smirk, he picks up Aaron and looks at Robin, who only shakes his head in amazement and starts for the Cave. Determined to nail this woman for every crime he can, Cam makes a beeline for the computer, instructing Aaron, "That kid? He's really _Robin._ And I bet you he'll be more than happy to show you around."

Like that, Aaron leaps from his back and flocks the thirteen-year-old, saying just how cool and awesome he is—because everybody loves him, apparently—and Robin happily soaks in the compliments before taking him on a tour. Grinning at his success, Cam sets to work, Googling all he can about Child Abandonment. Just as he's confident that what she's done will classify, the Cave announces the arrival of Zatanna and Raquel.

"Back already?"

"Yup."

Peering over his shoulder, Zatanna asks, "Why are you looking that up?"

"Oh, just wondering."

Of course, that's when Robin and Aaron return to the living room. Raquel's eyes widen and Zatanna raises an eyebrow. "Cam…"

"I can explain. Short version: his mom doesn't deserve to be a mom, I'm going to change that."

"She doesn't know he's here?" Raquel inquires.

"Duh."

"So you _kidnapped _him?!"

"I wouldn't call it kidnapping, exactly. He came willingly."

"Cam—"

Aaron approaches the two girls, nervously playing with his hands. "Hi. I'm Aaron, and, and, and I just wanted to tell you that you're really pretty."

When Wally and Artemis arrive a few minutes later, Raquel and Zatanna are cooing over their newest friend. Turning between Cam and the child, Artemis asks, "Do I even want to know?"

"I found him in town. Name's Aaron. His mom made him wait, by himself, in the bookstore because he's too annoying when she's shopping."

Wally winces and mutters, "Ouch. What are we going to do?"

"Far as I can figure, she's guilty of child abandonment and child endangerment. He says she's done this before, so we can get her on multiple charges. My hope is that we can just scare her into giving up her parental rights."

"Even if she does agree to that, where is he going to go?" Artemis watches as Raquel begins to toss him up and down. "She knows we can't keep him, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, probably. Hopefully. Anyway, he's got this aunt that will take him in. I'm positive she will."

"So, how exactly are you going to get in contact with his mom?"

"Uh…" Hmm, he should have thought this through a little more. "That's a good question."

"We could look her up in the phone book," Wally offers.

"She's not home. And I feel like leaving a message would be tasteless. And really, really sketchy."

"Maybe Aaron knows." Turning toward the boy, she asks, "Aaron, you know your mom's cell phone number?"

"No. I know my aunt's, though, is that good?"

"Yeah, that's perfect," Cam says, whipping out his cell phone. "Can you tell me what it is?"

Walking away from the group, he pretends he's not completely freaking out as he waits for this woman to pick up so he can try to explain himself without sounding like a total weirdo. Just as he's convinced she's not answering, a voice inquires, "Hello?"

"Hi, um, Ann. I found your nephew, Aaron—"

"You found him?" She's panicking, and he realizes how badly he worded that. "Is he okay? What's wrong? Is Karen alright?"

"Nothing wrong. Well, I mean, not really. See, he was all by himself in this bookstore in town. He says his mom leaves him places while she's shopping so he can't bother her. And, uh, well, this all sounded better in my head, but he was talking about you and how you care for him, and I was thinking that, maybe, you could talk to his mom or something, get him out of her care."

The silence that follows is not at all reassuring, but she then says, "Yeah, that…that has to be done. I'll call her. Where is Aaron?"

"We're still in town," he lies, because "He's at a secret cave" will make this conversation take a very dark turn.

"Alright. Can you please meet me at the Hallmark? We need to settle this now."

"Okay."

"Thank you for letting me know this is happening. It's very admirable. Most people wouldn't have gotten involved."

"Oh, it's no problem, really."

Closing the phone, mentally cheering for his victory, he turns around to see Wally and Artemis are staring at him, now accompanied by Kaldur and Connor. Megan is with the other girls and Robin, keeping Aaron preoccupied.

"Oh, ah, hi, guys."

"You kidnapped a child," Connor deadpans.

He rolls his eyes. "No. God, why can no one explain it like I can? See—"

"We are aware of what is happening," Kaldur interrupts gently. "And I understand why you took this course of action. However, you should have thought about this more thoroughly. We cannot act rashly for every petty—"

"Petty?" Cam repeats, and it's a growl. "This isn't _petty_, Kaldur. Something like this? This messes you up. This messes you up _real _fricking bad."

"I am sorry," Kaldur amends. "I phrased that poorly. I only meant that we must tread carefully when we involve ourselves in such matters."

"Well, it worked. Got hold of his aunt, we're going to figure this out." Breaking past the group, he goes to Aaron and offers his hand. "Let's go, buddy. Your aunt is waiting for us."

"What?"

"We're going to make sure your mom never leaves you alone again."

"She'll be mad that I told someone."

The fear in his voice is something Cam remembers all too well, so he gives the child's hand a comforting squeeze. "It's going to be okay. Trust me on this."

He gives a small nod and allows the teen to lead him into town. Even before stepping foot into the store, Cam spots two women arguing, hands waving wildly. Lowering his voice, he tells Aaron, "Don't mention that I'm Ice, okay? Secret identity and all."

"Okay."

Taking a deep breath, he walks in and coughs a bit. Both whip around to face him, and the one rushes forward, pulling Aaron into a tight hug. "Oh, thank goodness you're okay, honey."

The other woman glowers and demands, "Who are you and what were you doing with my son?"

"Looking out for him," he returns, resisting every urge to turn her into an ice sculpture. "Something you should have been doing."

"Don't you dare tell me how to raise my son!"

"Karen, calm down," Ann insists. "He was only doing the right thing. You cannot leave Aaron alone. He's five."

"He was fine."

"Like he always is when you abandon him?" Cam sneers.

"I don't abandon him!"

"According to the law, you do."

With a snarl, she spits, "Stay out of this!"

"No, Karen, he's right." Ann stands, Aaron in her arms, his head buried in his chest. "You need help. I know it's been hard, being a single mom, but you can't take your frustrations out on him. And just leaving him places? Either you get help, or I'm taking custody."

"I don't need help," she growls, "and you are _not _taking him from me!"

"I'll go to court. Don't test me on this." She sighs. "We'll go to my house, talk this over. Please, Karen."

For a few moments, she just glares at her sister. Finally, she relents, "Fine."

They leave, Ann mouthing _Thank you _and Aaron offering a small wave. Satisfied, Cam returns to the Cave, where Artemis is waiting for him.

"How'd it go?"

"I think it's going to be okay. His aunt says that she either gets her act together or she's losing custody."

"That's good." She studies his face. "You okay? This must have brought up some pretty bad memoires."

"Yeah," he murmurs, thinking of all the nights he cried himself to sleep, all the wishes he spent on stars asking for her to love him, all the bad words that had embedded themselves into his subconscious. "No kid should ever go through that." More quietly, he adds, "No kid should end up like me."

When his response sinks in, Artemis throws her arms around him and whispers, "Cam, any kid who ends up like you would be lucky."


	31. Chapter 31

Disclaimer: Cartoon Network's show. Just saying.

Closure

"Fetch," he instructs, tossing the oversized tennis ball that he bought from the pet store. Wolf raises his head to watch it bounce across the floor but makes no move to retrieve it.

"C'mon, boy, fetch!"

The canine flicks his tail lazily, but that's the only response. Throwing his hands up in frustration, Cam gets to his feet and stalks toward the toy, grumbling, "You know, this is your job."

"_Recognized, Artemis, B-07._"

Her backpack dangling from her hand, her school uniform tie askew, she looks exhausted, the same way she did right after the attack. Heartbeat quickening, Cam approaches and asks, "What's wrong, Artemis?"

"I couldn't sleep last night," she explains, flopping onto the coach.

"I thought the nightmares were getting better."

"They are. I normally only have one a night now. Last night, though…" She covers her eyes were her hand and scrunches into a ball, and Cam takes a seat beside her, waiting. "I, I don't even _know_, I just kept seeing his face and I, I couldn't wake up."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, rubbing her back. "I'm sorry."

"Four months," she mutters. "It's been four fricking months and I can't get over it."

"You don't have to be over it," he insists softly. "This is normal. It's okay not to be okay."

"But I want to be okay," she protests, sitting up and leaning against him. "I want to be able to sleep at night and go through one day without those damn memories and feel strong all the time, like I used to." She sighs, and her whole body shudders. In a whisper, she continues, "I still hate him, and I know that it's not healthy or whatever but I can't help it because he got to move on and I didn't."

Cam thinks about Terror, stuck in the mental hospital, thumbing through donated comic books and asking for his little sister. Having been visiting him twice a month, he knows he's not improving, not at all, and that there's little chance he ever will.

"Artemis, you're going to get better," he promises softly. "You _are _getting better."

"It doesn't feel that way."

An idea forms, and before he can back out, he asks, "Do you trust me?"

She sits up to stare at him. "Of course I trust you, Cam."

"Then come with me." His hand in hers, he tugs her to her feet and leads her to the zeta-beam transporter.

"Where are we going?"

"Just trust me," he insists, forcing himself to smile. If he comes off as nervous, she'll never go through with this.

"Why, exactly, are we in Louisiana?" There's a slight edge in the way she says that, as though she's trying to put the pieces together and doesn't like the picture that's appearing.

"We'll be there in a few minutes. Please, Artemis, I really think this is going to help."

There's no response, but from the way she bites her top lip, she is starting to panic, and Cam suddenly doubts that this was a good plan. Maybe having her face him this soon is dangerous, maybe it will only make things worse—

"Our Merciful Lady's Hospital for the Mentally Challenged," Artemis reads, and her voice cracks at the end. "Cameron, tell me this isn't his hospital."

"It is."

Storm cloud eyes darkening, she whispers, "I can't believe it. Why would you even—?"

"Please, just listen. He's, it's not the same Terror who hurt you. He doesn't remember anything past the age of eleven."

"What are you talking about?"

"Hypothalamus damage," he explains, trying to control his volume because people are starting to look their way. "He thinks he's eleven-years-old. Twelve now, I guess. His birthday was last month."

"Do you _visit _him?" It's a snarl, and he can't help but flinch. "You visit the bastard that raped me? Christ, Cameron, how could you do this to me?! You're supposed to be my best friend! You're supposed to have my back!"

"I do, I swear, it's just—"

"Just what?!" she demands.

"I did this to him." And he shouldn't mention this but he has to because she needs to know that he's not doing this because he doesn't think Terror did anything wrong but because he destroyed his mind, rendered him utterly helpless, and it's poetic justice, in a way, but it's still wrong. Eighteen-year-old Tommy Terror deserves to be punished, but that isn't happening because it's his child-self that is stuck all alone, confused and wondering what he did wrong, and it's not fair.

In an instant, her face falls, and she stammering, "I'm sorry, Cam, I didn't mean that, I didn't mean any of that, I'm so sorry, Cam, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he promises, even though his throat hurts like it does when he's about to cry. "I just think facing him, like this, will help you. If, if you don't, I get it. You know, this was probably really stupid, I'm sorry—"

"No, Cam, it's a good idea. I, I want to do this."

"You sure?"

Nodding, she starts for the entrance, and he matches her pace. The nurse barely glances at them. "I'm assuming she's a friend, too?"

"Yup."

"You know the drill."

He quickly signs their names and leads her down the hall. Outside of room 178, she suddenly freezes. "Does he have his powers?"

"If he does, he doesn't know how to use them."

"What if he suddenly gets his memory back?"

"He's not. And if he does, I'll kick his ass halfway to Hell. It'll be alright, Artemis." Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, he murmurs, "We don't have to do this, you know. Whatever you want."

After a few deep breaths, she shakes her head a little and whispers, "I'm ready."

He opens the door and steps inside, Artemis practically clinging to his back. Looking up from _Punisher_, Tommy grins. "Hi, Cam."

"Hi, Tommy. I brought someone this time."

"Tuppy?" Excitement practically radiates from him. "Is Tuppy here?"

"No, someone else." He steps aside and gently nudges Artemis forward. "This is Artemis."

"Artemis," he repeats, pronouncing it slowly, the name foreign on his tongue. "She's, she's the one you said I hurt."

"Yeah, she is. She wants to talk to you, okay?"

"Okay," he mutters. "What you want to talk 'bout?"

"Do you really not remember me?" she asks.

"No," he states stubbornly. "Does it matter?"

"Yes, it does." At the anger in her voice, Tommy brings his knees to his chest and seems to shrink. "I go through everyday re-living what you put me through, and you don't even know what happened? That isn't fair. I want to be able to move on, and I don't even know how. And here _you _are, and you…" Her shoulders sag. "You have no clue what I'm talking about, and you never will."

"I hurt you that bad?"

"Yeah, you did."

"I didn't mean to!" he insists. "I didn't."

"You did," she protests, but she sounds more defeated than furious. "You wanted to hurt me. You didn't care."

"I'm sorry," he whimpers. "I'm sorry."

The archer just stares at her attacker. Silence fills every inch of the room, and it's the loudest sound Cam has ever heard.

"Do you forgive me?" Tommy finally asks.

"I…I don't know," Artemis admits. "I'm trying to."

His face contorts slightly, as though trying to process the answer. Absentmindedly flipping through the comic book, he whispers, "Do you hate me?"

"I…No. No, I don't hate you." Turning to Cam, she murmurs, "Can we leave now? Please?"

With a quick nod, he tells Tommy, "Look, we have to leave."

"Okay," he mutters dejectedly. "Did, did you talk to the nurses 'bout Tuppy coming by more?"

"I'm working on it." Whenever he sees Crystal or his dad, he tries to convince prison personnel to increase the amount of visitation the Terror Twins can spend together, but it's an uphill battle. High price of gas is sought as the top reason that such a request would be unreasonable, but he knows it's because they just don't care. "I can't promise anything, though."

"Oh. Okay. Bye."

They leave, Artemis pressed closely to Cam. Outside, he inquires, "Did you mean that? That you don't hate him?"

"Yeah, I actually did. You know, I actually do feel better."

"What? Did you doubt me?" He feigns insult, hand to his heart.

She laughs, just a little, and pulls him into a hug. "Of course not, Cam." After a moment, she adds, "Thank you."

"I didn't do anything."

"You made me believe I could do this. You made me feel strong again."

He doesn't think he'll ever stop smiling.


	32. Chapter 32

Disclaimer: Yeah, sure, let's go with yes.

Injury

He wakes up to Batman standing over him.

Initially, he thinks he's seeing things, but when he blinks about twenty times and the ominous figure is still beside his bed, he realizes that it's no hallucination. Doing the only logical thing, he yelps loudly and flails, falling to the floor.

"Cameron. Come to the Infirmary."

"Why?" he asks, suddenly glad that he sleeps in sweats and not just boxers.

"Dinah has been injured."

"What?" That brings him to his feet, though his legs can barely hold his weight. "How?"

"League mission," the Bat explains, sweeping out of the room, and Cam, in a daze, follows. "She is unconscious and has a broken arm."

"She's, she's gonna be okay, right?"

"She should be."

"Should?" he repeats, stopping in his tracts.

Slowing, the Gothamite swivels his head to observe the teen. "She will," he amends, and it's not Batman talking but whoever hides behind that cowl. "She has faced a lot worse than this."

He nods—he thinks he does, anyway, he's not too sure—and resumes walking, taking deep breaths like she taught him. It calms him down, but the panic returns as soon as he sees her prone on the bed, left arm in a dark blue cast, chest weakly rising and falling.

Breathing becomes near impossible, and he finds himself sitting down even though he made no conscious decision to do so. Why he's reacting in such a manner is beyond him—since the age of eight, he's seen people he cared about get hurt. His dad, Crystal, Artemis, his teammates, at some point or another, they've taken a hit in the line of duty.

With Dinah, though, it's different. Throughout everything, she's always been so strong, so in control. She seemed invincible, almost, like nothing could ever touch her. And now…

"Cam?"

Jumping slightly, he turns to GA, two Dunkin Donut cups in his hands. The senior hero chuckles and says, "Didn't mean to scare you."

"When'd you get here? And where'd Batman go?"

"Batman's been go five minutes now," he explains, handing one cup to the teen. "You must be pretty out of it. Told him waking you was pointless—all we can do is wait, and you waiting at four in the morning or at nine in the morning makes no difference."

"I'm glad he got me," he insists quietly, sniffing the liquid.

"Coffee," Ollie promises.

"I don't like coffee."

"That'll change. Try it—there are a thousand things of sugar in there; figured that would help it go down easier."

He takes a sip and gags. Scrunching his nose, he shakes his head and places it on the floor. "Sorry."

"Hey, just means more for me. You're not sick, right?"

Instead of pointing out that his body temperature is too low for most bacteria and viruses, he offers, "Eh, swine, mono, maybe Ebola. Not too sure."

"I'll take that as a clean bill of health," the archer muses with a smile, finishing his drink and moving on to Cam's. When he speaks next, his tone is serious. "How are you doing?"

"I'm not the one with the broken arm," he mutters without thinking.

"First time you've seen her hurt, isn't it?"

All he can manage is a nod.

"Trust me, this is nothing. She'll be up and about in no time." He places a hand on Cam's shoulder. "But I know this can't be easy for you. So, if you want to talk, I'm all ears."

"Taking over her job already?" he asks, forcing himself to keep it light.

"I do what I can."

"Thanks," he says, refusing to take him up on the offer. Even though he appreciates it, he feels uncomfortable opening up to Artemis's mentor instead of his own. Besides, if Ollie says Dinah will be fine, she will be, so talking about the fear entangling itself within the pit of his stomach would just be stupid.

The next few hours pass uneventfully, with bouts of small talk and moments of silence. Progressively, his body starts to remember that it began the day far too early and begins retreating into hibernation mode, and he doesn't realize he fell asleep until voices bring him to reality.

"Is she getting better?"

Wonder Woman? Tempted to open his eyes, he refrains, knowing he'll get more information this way.

"No change." Martian Manhunter.

"She's no closer to gaining consciousness?" Superman.

"Her brain waves are consistent with those experienced while dreaming. They have yet to advance beyond that point."

"What about her ruptured spleen?"

For the first time in his life, he actually feels cold. Ruptured spleen? Ollie and Batman never mentioned that. Why the _Hell _didn't they mention that?

"It was fixed at the Watchtower's Infirmary." Ollie.

"I don't know why we moved her," Wonder Woman murmurs. "It would have been better if she stayed there."

"You know why," Superman insists. "Her protégé is here, and unless you would have preferred him coming to the Watchtower…"

"What is he going to do for her?"

"You might not want to talk about him like he's not here," Ollie practically spits, and Cam almost smirks at how protective he's being.

"He's here?" In his mind, he imagines her looking around frantically, a dumbfounded expression on her face, and it lessens the sting of her remark.

"Been here the whole time."

"What time did you get him?"

"Batman got him as soon as we moved Dinah in."

"That early?" There's a slight change in her tone, and if it wasn't Wonder Woman talking, Cam would have to call it compassion. "He's been here for seven hours?"

"She's his mentor. There's a bond."

The Amazon doesn't respond, but from the sound of her footsteps, he can tell she's approaching him. Shifting slightly, hoping it looks like he's just tossing in his sleep, he buries his head in the cushion. He wants to keep this charade up, he can't afford to let them read his facial expressions.

"How's he taking it?" she finally asks.

"About as well as you'd expect," Ollie returns tersely. "This is the first time she's gotten hurt."

"Oh," is the only response, before she clears her throat and mutters, "I have to get back to the Watchtower."

She leaves, and a second set of footsteps follows, leaving him to guess that it's Superman going with her.

Ollie sighs loudly, and Cam can only imagine how tired he must be. There's no way he's gotten any sleep. "I'm getting another coffee," he murmurs. "You want one?"

"I am good," Martian Manhunter returns. "Thank you, though."

A few moments pass before the alien says, "I know you are awake, Cameron."

At first, he thinks it's a bluff, but the guy can read minds, so he accepts defeat and rolls himself into a sitting position. "How'd you know?"

"I sense extremely stressed brainwaves," he explains, "the kind that can only be produced by a conscious mind. When Wonder Woman mentioned Dinah's ruptured spleen…you reacted quite strongly."

"They never told me," he tells his companion, crossing his arms over his chest, temper flaring. He's not a child; they have no right to be keeping secrets from him, especially not when it's about her and her health—

"They did not want to alarm you," Manhunter assures him, and he blushes, wondering how much he had picked up. "There was no surgery needed, and it will heal with rest and time."

He shrugs, not having anything to challenge that but not content with the answer, either.

"She will be okay," he insists. "She—"

"Has faced worse," Cam finishes, and it comes out harsher than he meant. "Yeah, I get it. But what if she's not okay? What if this time, she doesn't wake up?" To his annoyance, it's getting harder and harder to speak, and his eyes are hurting. With a scowl, he stares at the floor, pretending he's by himself, without his battered mentor and a Martian sensing all his anxiety.

"I cannot give you a definite answer to that," he admits. "What I can tell you, though, is that she does not leave anything unfinished. And with the League, and the Team, and _you_ needing her, well, there are a lot of things left unfinished."

In spite of himself, he smiles, and he feels a little better. "Thanks."

Time moves on. When Ollie returns, with a coffee and a hot chocolate, Martian Manhunter leaves. The two Star City hero converse, switching chaotically between topics, both trying to ignore the unmoving forming on the bed. Connor and Megan stop by after school, the half-Kryptonian more frazzled than his girlfriend, and they don't leave her side for a while. Some Leaguers come, Hawkwoman and Captain Marvel and the Green Lanterns, but they only stay for half an hour. When six o'clock rolls around, GA goes for takeout, since neither he nor the teen have eaten anything all day. He's only gone for a few minutes when Dinah moans softly and stirs.

Heart beating furiously against his chest, Cam asks softly, "Dinah? Dinah, are you okay?"

"Cam?" It's barely audible. "What happened?"

"You…you were on a League mission," he says, dragging the chair closer.

"Right," she grumbles, slowly opening her eyes. "How long have I been out?"

"Fourteen hours," he answers.

"Fourteen?" she repeats disbelievingly, sitting up. The sudden movement seems to agitate her head because she immediately cradles it in her right hand.

"You okay?" he frets. "Do you need anything?"

"Just a little sore," she assures him. "How long have you been here?"

"Since they brought you in."

She stares at him for a few seconds. "You've been here this whole time?" she whispers, pulling him into a hug. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know. I, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay, you know?" Everything's coming out in a rush, and he's barely formulating what he wants to say before it's out of his mouth. "I mean, I've just never seen you hurt, and I, it's scary, you like this, because you're so strong and brave and, and I need you and I don't, I can't—"

"Oh, Cam," she murmurs, gently running her fingers through his hair. "I'm not going anywhere any time soon. I can promise you that." She cups his chin and meets his eyes. "You really think I've taught you everything I know?"

"Of course not," he returns, and a throbbing pain in his chest that he hadn't even realized was there is gone. "Do you need anything? For real?"

"No, Cam, this is fine," she insists, embracing him once more. "This is just fine."


	33. Chapter 33

AN: I don't know how to play poker. So yeah. Also, boys being boys. Take that as you will.

Disclaimer: Nope.

Poker

The boys are lounging in the living room, contemplating what to do. Megan and Raquel had convinced Zatanna and Artemis to do a spy-day after training, so they have the whole Cave to themselves. Normally, they'd hit the basketball court or start a ragtag football game, but with Dinah still out of commission, Leaguers have been rotating as combat instructors, and today had been Batman's turn. It was rough, to say the least, and just the thought of moving is painful.

Robin flips himself around so he's hanging upside down on the couch. "We have to think of something to do."

"Really, Sherlock," Wally returns, playfully kicking at his friend's legs and dodging the retaliation.

"Shut up, Baywatch."

"Hey, only Artemis can call me that!"

Connor rolls his eyes while Kaldur watches thoughtfully, as though contemplating about intervention. Hoping to get everyone focused, Cam asks, "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, what do you want to do?" Wally returns in a sing-song kind of voice.

"I don't know, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know, what do yo—"

"Perhaps we should simply watch television," Kaldur interrupts quickly. "I am sure there is something on."

"We checked the guide five minutes ago," Robin reminds the leader. "Absolutely nothing."

"There was a documentary on the tropics."

The four others share a brief look before Wally mumbles, "Yeah…as _fascinating _as that sounds, I'm going to have to pass."

"I think one of the channels had a poker game," Robin says, reaching for the remote.

"Forget that," Cam protests as he gets to his feet. "I have an idea."

He goes to his room and searches for the pack of cards he bought when he read that some animals could be taught to identity the different suits. After working with Wolf for an hour and making zero progress, he'd given up. Now, they were going to come in handy.

Triumphant, he returns and places the deck on the table. "How about we have our own game?"

"You know how to play?" Wally asks skeptically.

"Something you learn as a villain. Mandatory, practically."

Big heists were often followed by poker, once-cohorts willing to bet up to half their night's haul. Icicle was notoriously skilled and had a near-perfect record. Cam would watch in fascination the wheeling and dealing, feeling a surge of pride every time his father won, even if he didn't know how that was being accomplished. As he grew older, he picked up on the rules, taking a place besides the senior ice-villain. Joar would show him the cards, ask in hushed tones for his recommendations, and jokingly insist that his son was a good-luck charm.

He forgot how much he loved this game.

"Sit down, my friends, sit down," he instructs in an awful Italian accent. Cards fly gracefully between his hands. "I will explain to all I know—all, of course, accept how to win. 7-Card Stud, down and dirty. Now, what shall we wager?"

"No way I'm betting any money," protests Connor stubbornly.

"I do not believe that would be wise," Kaldur agrees.

"Okay, fine." He distributes the right number of cards to each player. "Not interesting enough, anyway."

"What? Thinking strip poker?" Wally offers sarcastically.

"No." A smirk crosses his face. "But that's not a bad idea."

"Really?" Robin inquires.

"Why not? Unless you're all too _scared_."

"Do you think you can bait us into this?" Connor grumbles, glaring.

"Well," he drawls, "I know I can get three out of four of you. So what do you say? Are you men, or are you mice?"

There's a moment of silence. "Aw, why the Hell not?" Wally finally mutters, cracking his knuckles.

"Might as well," Robin adds.

"Fine," Connor grunts.

Kaldur sighs. "I suppose it can do no true harm."

"Perfect." The cryokinetic smiles brightly and launches into an explanation of the rules, ending with, "One article of clothing per lose. Socks or shoes are a pair—they count as one. So, ready?"

When the girls return, Wally is down to his shorts, Connor and Kaldur, if they lose, will have no option but to take off a real article of clothing, and Robin has lost his sneakers. Cam, always victorious, is riding high.

"What, exactly, is going on?" Artemis asks warily. "I'm not _complaining_, exactly, but I'm kinda concerned."

"It was Cam's idea!" Wally insists accusingly.

"Ah, wrong. It was my idea to play poker. _You _made it strip."

"Well, whatever the reason, I believe I will enjoy this." Raquel takes a seat next to Kaldur, chin on his shoulder.

"Definitely," Zatanna agrees, dropping into Robin's lap, and the Boy Wonder blushes a dangerously dark shade of red. Artemis follows her friends' lead, gently tugging a very confused Megan with her.

"Ah, so we have an audience now," Cam practically purrs, shuffling again. "This should be quite entertaining."

A certain young magician proves to be a disastrous distraction for Robin because he loses spectacularly the next round. Even though, logically, he should take off his socks, he instead removes his shirt, and a tiny, cat-on-the-prowl kind of grin crosses Zatanna's face.

"Showing off, are we?" Cam asks, clicking his tongue in disappoint.

"What are you talking about?" Robin counters, but there's a slight squeak in his voice.

"Oh, you know what I'm talking about. Making rash decisions because of willy-nilly teenager hormones. Thinking, shall we say, with the wrong head? What a shame, to be slave to the body's desires—"

Amid the laughter at his expense, the acrobat starts to tug his shirt back on. Covering his mouth in mock disbelief, Cam demands, "What are you doing?!"

"I'm gonna take my socks off instead," he insists.

"Oh, no, no, no, no. You made that decision, you have to live with it."

He mutters threats but obeys, and the game continues. When Cam's streak hits a snag and he's slipping off his sneakers, Wally jokes, "How does it feel, Cam? Tell me, how does it feel?"

He, of course, bombs the next round.

"How does it feel, Wally?" the seventeen-year-old returns as the ginger, scowling, removes his shorts. Artemis's attempts to look unfazed are failing horribly.

"Shut. Up."

"Life is Good boxers?" Robin cackles. "Really?"

"Can we just play?!"

Cam obliges, but not before he drops the temperature a good ten degrees.

"Dude, what up with the arctic weather?" Wally inquires, shivering.

"I'm just making sure that all parts of you stay in the same place they were before. We don't' want any…awkward occurrences, do we?"

As Wally ducks his head in embarrassment, Artemis reaches over and smacks Cam's arm lightly. "Raise the temperature, Frostbite."

"Fine, fine, fine."

Kaldur loses next, followed by Connor, and, though the girls will never admit it, Cam knows they're enjoying the show. It's when Wally obtains one more bad hand that everything comes to a screeching halt.

"No way," Wally immediately states, glancing at his underwear. "Nope. Na-uh."

"Wimp," Robin jeers.

"Try me, Mr. Hormones."

"He's forfeiting," Artemis insist, throwing his shirt at him. "Game over."

"What, you don't want to know if the carpet matches the curtains?" Cam asks under his breath, hoping to look innocent.

"Dude!" Wally yelps while Artemis's face blazes. Raquel is practically choking from trying not to laugh, and Robin and Zatanna are on the floor in hysterics. Connor and Megan have no idea what's going on, and Kaldur is clearly regretting his support of this game.

"You…You…You," his best friends stammers. "I can't…you're such a…ugh, you're so gross!"

"Hey, it's my specialty."

"If I even thought of doing that, you'd kill me!" Wally points out.

"Doing what?"

"Taking off my boxers!"

Universe working in mysterious ways, Ollie and Dinah happen to arrive as soon as the words are leaving his mouth. Dead silence settles, the teens in utter shock and embarrassment, the adults concerned.

"_What _is going on?" Ollie questions, eyes never leaving the speedster.

"Cam's a bad influence," the fifteen-year-old all but whimpers, covering himself with a pillow.

"Uh, _I'm _the only one fully clothed."

"Okay, all of you, clothes back on," Dinah instructs, but it's clear that she's not angry. Ollie, on the other hand…

"Wally, we're going to have a little talk. Come with me."

"Okay," he sighs, shirt in his hands.

"Don't even bother getting dressed."

Eyes widening, he gets to his feet, mouth moving rapidly but no words coming out. With one last, pleading look to his friends, he trails behind the archer, arms hanging in front of him as though trying to shield himself. After a moment, Dinah follows, ready to play the peacemaker.

Artemis turns her attention from the retreating figures to her best friend, and he shrugs sheepishly as she half-heartedly throws his shoe at him. "You just got my boyfriend killed."


	34. Chapter 34

AN: Who else is wondering when Icicle Junior is going to figure out that Artemis is Tigress?

Also, to Riderazzo: thanks for reviewing _Frost_, and what you're hoping for in this story is coming. I promise. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to put it in.

Disclaimer: This show? Please.

Family

The first official day of summer is here, and the Team is more than ready to celebrate. Wally's been out of school for a week, and Artemis and Robin had their finals two days ago, but Happy Harbor High's last day is today, along with Zatanna's and Raquel's schools.

Mountains of junk food and soda are scattered around the kitchen, brought by the five free teens in anticipation for their friends. They've only been waiting forty minutes when Wally starts eyeing a bag of chips. Artemis doesn't even look at him as playfully slaps his hand. "No."

"But I'm hungry," he whines, pouting.

"They're going to be here in, like, five minutes," Robin protests. "Half days, remember?"

"Uh, speedster metabolism. I could _die _in five minutes. And it's cruel to tempt me with so much food."

"Yeah, I guess that isn't cool," Cam agrees, nonchalantly opening a package of cookies and eating one.

Hands on her hips, Artemis shakes her head. "Cam! Really?"

"Uh, yes," he says, tossing a couple to Wally, who quickly devours them. While Robin's laughing at the scene and Kaldur just watches in amusement, Connor and Megan enter.

With (some) of the guests of honor present, Wally insists it's enough of a reason to start digging in. Zatanna arrives barely in time to finish the Pringles, and Raquel, always late, misses the chocolate ice cream.

"Way to wait guys," she huffs, but she says it with a smile that only grows when Kaldur kisses her cheek.

"You snooze, you lose," Cam insists, grabbing the cartoon of Moose Tracks and sliding it toward her. "What took you so long, anyway?"

"My chemistry teacher, you know, the one who left for maternity leave? She came back and she had her baby and she was just the cutest little thing ever!" She whips out her phone and goes through the photos, bringing up one of a little girl, no older than a few weeks. "Just look at that precious bundle!"

The girls immediately begin ohh-ing and ahh-ing, leaving the boys to wonder what the appropriate, completely masculine response is. They're saved by Raquel sighing, "I want a little girl."

"You better get on that," Cam tells Kaldur with a smirk.

"Not _now_," Raquel insists, flicking a spoonful of the frozen treat at him. "When I'm ready."

"You only want one kid?" Artemis questions.

"Two, I think. Girl, then boy." There's a dreamy kind of expression on her face. "What about you guys?"

"I will be happy as long as my children are healthy," Kaldur offers.

Wally rolls his eyes. "Easy answer. I want three kids, two boys and then a girl. That way, if any boy breaks her heart, he'll be killed three times."

"How sweet," Artemis mutters sarcastically.

"What? I'm just thinking ahead."

"I always wanted a big family—maybe six children," Zatanna proposes, and Robin chokes on his soda. "Don't care about the gender, really."

"A big family would be nice," Megan agrees.

"But not as big as the ones on Mars," Connor immediately jumps in.

"I think I'd be fine with just one kid," Cam adds, a little self-conscious. "A daughter."

"Any reason?" Wally asks.

He shrugs. "Eh, not really."

There is, though, but not one he's quite willing to share. The Mahkent line, as far as he knows, has been only sons. His dad had briefly mentioned it a few days after he first showed up, when he had quietly asked about his family. "No one but us," the senior villain had said. "Last one was your grandfather, but he's been dead and buried for years."

There had been no compassion in his voice, nothing but a simmering kind of resentment, and Cam wouldn't understand until a few years later. He was borderline asleep, only vaguely aware of Crystal running her fingers through his hair, hissing, "You don't have to hit him, Joar. Not for every fricking mistake. It's a kid, you ass."

"Bad blood," he had muttered, and he sounded old and almost sorry. "Mahkent curse, passed on from father to son."

And maybe he's over-thinking this—because he's not like his dad, he's proven that much—but he's still scared of that curse, as irrational as it might be. Having a daughter will break it, prevent him from becoming what he's always feared.

"Is it normal that I already know what I want to name my kids?" Raquel brings him back to reality. "Like, I have it all planned. My daughter will be Keisha, and my son will be Amistad."

"Amistad?" Robin repeats.

Nodding proudly, she explains, "Spanish slave ship. The slaves revolted, took control. They were captured off the coast of Long Island, and a court ruled that they had been enslaved illegally. They were all let go. And I want _my _baby to know that he'll always be free."

"Touching," Connor says, "but what if your husband has a name in mind?"

"Uh, last time I checked, I was the one giving birth. So unless _he_ is planning on popping out a baby, I'm picking the name."

"You go girl," Cam cheers, snapping his fingers.

Artemis throws some pretzels at his face. "You are so weird."

"Haters gonna hate. Alligators gonna gate."

"Never. Again."

"I like the name John," Robin offers, almost inaudibly. "And Mary."

"Doesn't matter, my friend," Wally protests. "You do not have a uterus and are therefore ineligible of naming your offspring."

"Okay, okay, I get it," Raquel huffs. "Maybe the guy can have some say. But not any more than I do. Do you have any _idea _how painful—?"

"We are not talking about this!" Zatanna clamps her hands over her ears and closes her eyes. "Nope, stop right there."

"Good answer!" Cam applauds. "I know how some young people these days—"

"Silence is golden," Artemis interrupts, and she shoves a Rice Krispie in his mouth. "So shh."

"I'm thinking that one of my boys will be Wally Junior. Gotta keep the name alive."

Robin snorts, and the ginger glares. "How much of a position are you in to be judging my name?"

"The whole same-name thing is so old-fashioned."

"You just don't care about tradition."

"Whatever."

"I would hope that my children would bear Atlantian names," Kaldur admits, "so that they may remember their heritage

"I'm torn between Martian names and Earth names," Megan agrees. "I'll probably pick ones that can change pretty easily, like mine and my uncle's. Has anyone else thought about this?"

Bizarrely, he has. Not in-depth like the others, but briefly, a few seconds here, a minute there. If he has a daughter, he wants her to know that she's the most beautiful girl in the world and that she deserves to be treasured and adored.

"Rose," he offers, right after Artemis says, "Isabelle."

The two float together as one, and when he glances at Artemis, she has a small smile on her face.

"Isabelle Rose," she murmurs thoughtfully.

"That goes really well together," Zatanna says, and the others nod in agreement.

"Guess that means you're out of the picture, Wally," Robin jokes, using Connor as a shield when the speedster feigns an attack.

"Uh, no. Whoever has kids first gets the name."

"Whoever has a _girl _first gets the name," Cam corrects.

The conversation takes a turn after that, but the cryokinetic keeps repeating _Isabelle Rose _to himself, twirling it around on his tongue like a pearl, and, against his better judgment, he matches it to an image, a young girl with his eyes and long blonde hair.


	35. Chapter 35

AN: So today's episode…anyone else less than pleased? Anyone?

Also, what is this atrocity that _Young Justice _is ending after Invasion? Seriously, they can't do this to us.

Disclaimer: My show would never get cancelled. EVER.

Beach

"What is taking them so long?" Connor grumbles, eyes concentrated on the clock. "Training ending twenty minutes ago! It can't take _this _long to put on bathing suits."

Wally shrugs and lies down on the counter. "You know how girls are. They have to look perfect, no matter where they're going."

"Besides, they're probably too busy complaining about their boyfriends to focus on getting ready," Cam adds nonchalantly.

"Real funny." Robin throws a water bottle at his head, which he freezes mid-air. "Have I ever told you that you were a comedic god?"

"Why, no, I don't think you have."

"Good."

"Ooh, we have a smart-ass over here."

"Whatever you two are arguing about, stop," Zatanna instructs as she and the other girls enter the kitchen. Unlike the boys, who threw on their suits right after combat was over, they look as though they hadn't spent the last three hours fighting one another. Wearing cover-ups and sunglasses, they could pass as models displaying the newest summer trend. It's a pretty amazing transformation, actually, and Cam's borderline convinced that magic is involved.

"Are we ready to go?" Kaldur gets to his feet, wrapping his towel around his shoulders.

"I think so," Megan says, kneeling and examining the contents of her oversized bag. "Sunscreen, extra towels, books, cell phones. Yeah, I think we're good."

"And I have the cooler," Wally assures the group as he hugs the red-and-white box to his chest.

"Shocker," Artemis teases. At the feigned expression of hurt, she quickly kisses his cheek before dashing toward the Cave's entrance. "Let's go!"

"Hey, we were ready almost a half hour ago!" Cam points out, but the archer's already disappeared down the hall. Him and the rest of the Team follow.

Even though he's not really showing it, he's excited. "Normal" is not a word to describe his childhood, so he's never been to the beach before. His dad had mentioned it once or twice, as though they were actually going to go, but being a villain meant more than being human, and it never happened. He'd waved it off like it wasn't a big deal, but it had stung; the kids at school always raved about the beach the first day back from vacation, and he never had a story to tell, never got to experience the thrill of the ocean or the fun of playing in the sand. Seventeen physiologically, he's about ten at heart, and it's time he got to do this.

As soon as they arrive, he drops his stuff and sprints toward the water.

"Did you put sunscreen on?" Megan yells after him.

"Yes!"

He dives right in, practically swallowing saltwater and sand, but he doesn't care. The current's strong, fighting him, which makes swimming all the more fun. He bursts to the surface to get a few gulps of air, and only when he realizes that no one else is here does he stop to find his friends.

They're congregated at the water's edge, clustered together with their toes barely wet. Confused, he approaches, asking, "What's wrong?"

"It's freezing," Artemis explains.

"No, it's not."

"Uh, for people without the power to become an ice cube, it is."

"So you're not coming in?"

"We are," Raquel promises. "Just…give us, like, ten minutes to get used to it."

"Ten minutes?! Really? All of you?" He glances at Kaldur. "You live in the ocean! How are you cold?"

"I am quite content, but I will wait for the others."

"Megan? You like the cold."

"I'll wait, too."

"You're no fun," Cam grumbles, joining them.

"You can go in," Artemis says.

"But it's no fun if it's just—" Grabbing her from behind, carrying her bridal style, he races back into the ocean, holding her right above the water.

"Cam!" she shrieks. "Don't you dare!"

"Dare what?" he questions innocently. He lowers her slightly, her feet going under, before returning her to the previous position. Her grip around his neck tightens.

"Cam, I will murder you in your sleep!"

"Come on, Wally, save her!" Cam calls toward shore. "You have three seconds."

"What?" Wally squawks while Artemis hisses, "Don't!"

"Three."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" With large, awkward steps as he battles the waves, Wally starts toward them.

"Two."

"I won't be your best friend anymore! Cam!"

"Wally, you have super speed! What are you doing?!" Robin shouts.

The speedster face palms and kicks it into gear, but Cam's already landed on "One" and sinks down, dragging Artemis with him. He releases her immediately, and she kicks him as she swims upward, but he can't tell if it was on purpose or just a frantic attempt to get away. The punch that bruises his arm as he reaches the surface is definitely intentional.

"I hate you," she growls, but her teeth are chattering so badly he can't take her seriously. Before he can respond, though, Wally crashes into him, almost knocking him over.

"Oh, too late now, buddy," Cam jokes.

"Hey, I tried," the redhead protests. "That has to count for something!"

"Uh, let me think: no!"

Before the debate can continue, the others are in the water too. Smirking at the sheer brilliance of his plan, Cam slips below the waves, getting far enough from Artemis so she can't continue retaliating.

They stay in for most of the day, going on land once to eat and once to tan—technically, the girls tan, the boys sleep, but it's close enough. When the sun's on the horizon, painting the sky pink and gold, they get out for good. Any bitterness over her surprise swim is forgotten because Artemis sits between Cam and Wally while they dry off. It's the first time he's really looked at her all day, and he realizes just how gorgeous she is, the light blue swimsuit hugging her perfectly. A blush crosses his face, and he quickly looks away, chiding himself, _She's not your girlfriend._

"Now what?" Zatanna asks, twirling her hair around her finger and flicking the water at Robin.

"Head back?" Connor offers.

"We could stay here for awhile," Raquel muses, spreading herself so her arms and legs linger on the sand. "It's so nice."

"It is," Megan agrees, fingers entwining with Connor's.

Silent agreement from everyone else prompts the Team to stay there until night falls, constellations and shooting stars blinking and dancing across a bluish black stage. Many things are discussed amongst themselves, futures and missions and dreams, and their words are carried away in the gently blowing wind.

It's official: the beach is totally awesome.


	36. Chapter 36

Disclaimer: "War" would not have gone that way because Jaime would be Jaime. Just saying.

Bonding

"Alright, I have the movies," Wally declares, hand held high above his head.

The dogs says of summer are quickly passing. Since the end of the school year, someone has always been at the Cave, and times like now, when all of them are together, have been common. They'd gone to the beach again, but Zatanna had gotten severe sunburn, so they decided to head inside and watch movies instead.

"What?" Raquel asks, leaning back against the couch.  
"_Space Jam_?!" Billy inquires excitedly. After returning from a vacation with this uncle, the ten-year-old was at the Cave as nearly often Cam. Artemis started teasing that he'd become the teen's shadow, which always makes Cam smile. He likes hanging out with the little dude.

"Of course," Wally says. "Got that, _Princess Bride_, _Star Wars_, and _Ice Age_. So, what are we watching first?"

"_Ice Age_," Zatanna mumbles into the pillow, cringing as Robin gently applies more lotion to her bright red shoulders.

"Feeling any better?" Megan turns to the magician with concern.

"I want to die," she groans.

Taking pity on her, Cam reaches over and holds his hand about an inch over her. A thin layer of frost coats the inflicted areas, and she sighs contentedly. Unable to maintain a mature composure, he nudges Robin, who's slightly annoyed that someone stole his nurturing thunder, and offers, "Don't hate because I'm a little _cooler_."

"You're such a loser," the acrobat mumbles as Billy races over to Wally to grab the DVDs.

"Can we watch _Space Jam_?" he pleads, sprawling them on the floor. He immediately reaches from the animated/ live-action mix but stops suddenly. "Hey, there's another one! _The Sixth Sense_."

Artemis smacks her hand to her forehead and glares at the ginger, who shrugs sheepishly before muttering, loud enough for only the Team to hear, "That was for _after _he went home."

"This is a scary movie! Can we watch this one? Please, please, please?"

"I do not believe that is a good idea." Kaldur immediately jumps into leader mode. "It is quite intense for someone so young."

"Aw, c'mon, he's a hero," Cam points out, always rooting for the underdog. "He's old enough."

The others send him this disbelieving kind of look, as though they can't even process what he just said. And, okay, it's probably not the smartest idea, insisting Billy can handle a PG-13 movie, but he knows where the kid is coming from. His childhood had been spent surrounded by people older than him, and he knows what it's like to feel left out because everyone else deems him "too young."

"So I can watch it?" Billy smiles brightly. "Right, Cam?"

Whoa, wait a second—how did this become his decision? "Well, Kaldur's in charge. It's his choice."

The Atlantian seems shocked by such betrayal, but Billy counters with, "But you're oldest, Cam! So it's up to you. Please, please, please, pa-_lease_!"

"Yes, Cam, you are the eldest," Kaldur contends, and if Cam didn't know better, he'd say the other boy is smirking.

Well, this could have gone better. He should say no, partly because that's logical and partly because the others won't stop staring at him, but the kid's working puppy-dog eyes like a pro and the cryokinetic just melts.

"Of course you can watch it. Go on, pop it in."

While Billy cheers in excitement, Connor flicks Cam's ear, hard, and mutters, "Seriously? A horror movie?"

"What? He'll be fine."

As it turns out, he couldn't have been more wrong. It starts out well enough, Billy situated between him and Artemis, but as it progresses, Artemis slowly inches closer to Wally and Billy ends up in his lap. The thing's one scene away from an R-rating, and the more Billy quivers, the worse he feels. He wants to do something, say something to make him feel better, but with Raquel screaming every two minutes and Wally shouting warnings at the screen, he realizes that it probably won't be that helpful.

Around the halfway mark, he tries to stand, but Billy clings to his shirt. "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," he whispers. "I'll be right back. Promise."

The child reluctantly releases his hold. When Cam returns no more than three minutes later, he's nowhere to be seen. Panicking, he starts looking around the room, wondering where he could have gone and why no one else is concerned. Zatanna finally pokes him in the stomach and points to the couch, and he notices that all the pillows have magically arranged themselves into a mound. Realization dawning, he moves them away to find Billy curled in a ball. "You know, we don't have to watch this," he says, taking a seat.

"But I like it!" he protests. "I want to watch it."

He doesn't, but he also doesn't want to admit that he's getting scared. Again, Cam has experienced that in his own way, trying to be brave because there's no chance of living it down, so he doesn't press the issue.

By the time it's over, Billy is squished between him and the couch, head buried in Cam's chest. Megan gets up to change movies, and Cam nudges Billy. "It's cool—it's over."

"I know," he insists hurriedly. "I was watching." After a moment, he adds, "We're, we're watching something funny now, right?"

"Of course."

Initially, Cam thinks everything has returned to normal—Billy is fine during the other movies and is no longer smooshed against him. When eleven o'clock rolls around, though, and the others are getting ready to leave, he refuses to move. Feeling the urge to be responsible, Cam asks, "Uh, Billy? It's kinda late."

"Yeah?"

"Shouldn't…well, I mean… your uncle might be worried."

"Well, he knows I'm here, and if I tell him I'm spending the night, he'd be fine with that."

"Oh." He glances around the room, hoping for a brain trust, but everyone's either home or in their rooms. On his own, he replies, "Uh, yeah, that's fine."

"Can I please borrow your phone?"

"Yeah, sure."

After Billy smooth-talks his way into an impromptu sleepover, he hands back the phone, saying, "He's okay with that."

"Alright. Uh, where, exactly, were you planning on sleeping?"

"The couch should be fine."

"Okay. Well, I'm gonna head off to my room…"

The child's face falters. "Uh, can, can you stay up a little bit? Just to watch TV with me? Please?"

And only now does it sink in that Billy doesn't want to be alone. Rejecting the strong urge to face-palm—seriously, sometimes he just doesn't use his brain—he replies, "'Course, little dude."

His plan is to sneak away once Billy's asleep, but by the time that happens, the child is sprawled along the length of the couch, arm slung across Cam's shoulders, and the teen doesn't have the heart to move. Resigned, he accepts his fate, and the next morning, he wakes up to Artemis watching him from the kitchen, a smile on her face.

"You spent the night?"

"Yup."

"Why are you smiling like that?" he asks, sitting up while trying not to disturb Billy.

"Because. You are such a marshmallow, and it's fricking adorable."

Not exactly the kind of compliment he wants from a girl, but he'll take it.


	37. Chapter 37

AN: So, what is going on in this show anymore?

Also, you've probably noticed that the last few chapters have been pretty happy and up-beat. This chapter, not so much.

Disclaimer: This answer is obvious.

Overcoming

He can't believe this is happening.

They were on their way back from a mission in Qurac, gathering intel on a militaristic group under Queen Bee's control, when Batman contacted the Bioship with an emergency detour. Some nut jobs were holding a ritzy, up-scale summer camp hostage, and they were the closest available resources. Taking down the bad guys wasn't the issue—they might've had numbers on their side, but the Team has superior skills and the element of surprise—it's afterwards. All the kids have been rounded up and they're at the entrance of the camp, waiting for the parents, when a boy with dark brown hair runs up to him. "You're, you're, you're Ice!" he practically shouts, light green eyes bright with excitement. "You're my favorite hero!"

There's something familiar about him, but Cam can't put his finger on it. Letting it slide, he drops to his knees and smiles. "What's your name?"

"Greg. I, you're, can I, can I have your autograph, please?" Dropping his backpack to the ground, he rummages inside and yanks out a notebook and a pencil before thrusting it toward Cam. "Please?"

"Of course," he says, vaguely aware of his friends watching with huge smirks. He flips to a blank page and writes a quick message. "There."

"Thank you! My brother won't believe—what, can you write one for my brother, too? Please?"

"Sure thing, Greg. What's your brother's name?"

"Alex. He's four, almost five. He thinks you're awesome, too."

The words barely register, though, because the pieces have settled into place. A photograph from months back appears in his mind, and he hears her purring, _"Oh, Cameron, you can't meet them."_

This is his brother. Right here. In front of him. A thousand different emotions flow over him, but he fights them all and focuses on the blank sheet in front of him, pretending that his hand isn't shaky as he writes something for Alex. His other brother.

They'll never know. To them, he's just a hero, and maybe that should be enough, but it's not. He wants to be more than that, a stranger wrapped in layers of ice, a guy they see on the news every once and a while. It's wistful thinking—she's hates him, she'll take the secret to her grave—but he can't get it out of his mind.

"Here you go," he says as he gives the notebook back.

"Thank you," Greg repeats, and Cam expects him to run off with the other kids. He stays where he is.

The next ten minutes are heart-twistingly painful as he learns all about Greg's life and hobbies and friends, learns all about the brother he's not supposed to speak to, learns all about the family he might have had if she thought he was good enough to belong. And he wants to tell him the truth, just spit it out and see how the dust settles, but he bites it backs, swallows it down, burning like acid in his throat.

"Greg!"

She comes running, one of the last parents to arrive, and the angry, resentful part of him had hoped it was because she didn't care. From the mascara stains on her cheeks and the way she's practically dragging Alex behind her, he knows that's not true.

"Oh, Greg, oh, baby," she breaths, throwing her arms around him, covering his face in kisses. "I was so worried! I got here as quickly as I could—are you okay? Are you hurt? I'll call the doctor—"

"I'm fine, Mommy," he says. "I'm not hurt. But look! It's Ice! He's the one who saved me!"

Noticing the cryokinetic for the first time, her eyes narrow in a glare. Alex, on the other hand, squeals. "You're so cool! You're, like, the bestest ever! Greg, you're so lucky!"

"I know! I got an autograph from him. And I got one for you, too!"

"Really?! Thanks!"

"Boys, boys, please," she says, voice constricted. "Calm down. Why don't you go see the other heroes for a minute?"

"But Mommy—" they whine in unison.

"I'm sure they would love to give you their autographs. And I would like to speak with _Ice_ alone, alright? I'll be right there, okay?"

With a final goodbye, they obey, running to the rest of the Team. Façade cracking, she snarls, "What were you thinking? I told you to stay away from them!"

"I was just doing my job," he counters, voice surprisingly even. "And Greg came up to me. I swear."

"I don't care. You shouldn't have spoken to him!"

"He doesn't know. I didn't tell him anything." Before he can stop himself, he continues, "It must piss you off, that I'm their favorite hero, _Mom_."

"Don't," she growls, glancing around wildly as though expecting someone to overhear the conversation.

"Does your husband like me too? What would he think if he knew I was your son?"

"Bastard son," she corrects hotly. "An accident. A _mistake_."

"Why do you hate me?" he demands, the slap of her words still stinging. "I never did anything wrong. I never did _anything _to you but try to make you happy! It's not my fault I looked like this, and it's not my fault I have these powers."

"You're him. You are your father."

"I'm a hero. I help people."

"Now. You used to hurt people before. Just like the monster you really are. Icicle's poisoned blood is in your veins, whether you're too blind to see it or not, and that can never, ever change. You'll go back to that life. It's only a matter of when."

Monster. After all these years, after he just saved her child, he's still just a monster. And even after all these years, all the people he's saved, he almost believes her.

"Maybe," he hisses, "the only poisoned blood in my veins is _yours_."

Sheer and utter loathing crosses her face, and for a split second, he's convinced she's going to hit him. Somehow composing herself, she spits, "You ungrateful bastard. I should have gotten rid of you when I got the chance. The world would be a better place if I had."

He watches her walk away, probably all smiles now as she approaches the Team to reclaim her children (_his brothers_), stomach heaving and heart shattering, feeling small and insignificant and wanting nothing more than to disappear. Forcing a poker face, he heads to the Bioship and scrunches in a seat, hoping that no one will ask what that was about.

They get the hint. Even though he can feel their eyes on him, they don't press for details and he doesn't offer any. He doesn't say one word the whole ride home, and as soon as debriefing is over, he heads to his room and buries his head in a pillow. The tears come unbidden.

"Cam? Can I come in?"

Hurriedly sitting up, hastily wiping his face, he coughs and says, "Yeah, Artemis, sure."

She enters, not even changed out of her uniform, other than the mask being off her face. "That was her, wasn't it?" she asks. "That was your mom?"

"How'd you figure?" he counters.

"You told me what she looked like, once, way back when. And the way she talked to you…even from the back, she seemed angry. Not the typical response to what we do." She licks her lips and takes a step closer. "Cam, what'd she say?"

"She contacted me a few months ago," he explains. "Some BS about making up. Hadn't changed at all. Told me she had a new family. That I had two half-brothers I'd never get to meet because they couldn't know we were related. She was pissed that the oldest one talked to me today."

"Cam, I'm sorry."

He tries to answer, but he can't manage. Unable to face her, he lies down again and stares at the wall.

"Look, I know you don't want to talk, and that's just fine, because I just want you to listen." She's beside him, hand on his shoulder. "You would be a great brother to those kids. You _are _a great brother—you're always there for everyone on this team, and Billy just adores you. Whatever else she said to you, it doesn't matter. She's just a hateful, stupid bitch who only cares about herself."

"She doesn't," he protests. "She loves Greg and Alex. And she can't stand me. She still thinks I'm a monster, that'll I'll turn into Dad. She…she says the world would have been better if she'd gotten an abortion."

That's what hurts the most, the one that's tearing him apart, because his own mother can look at him and wish he wasn't there. And if she can't love him, how can anyone else? _Why _should anyone else?

"That's a lie." Artemis is hugging him, head buried in the crook of his neck. "That's a bold-faced lie because there are so many people who would not be okay if you weren't here. _I _wouldn't be okay if you weren't here. You are the reason that I got through being raped, and don't even try to object to that. You are a hero, my hero, and you are making this world a better place. You are not a monster and you are not going to become one. God, Cam, I am so, so sorry." She's crying, her tears staining his neck. "You have to believe me. You need to believe me because_ you_ are so important and I couldn't, I couldn't even imagine you not being here. She's the monster, Cam, not you."

Her words are jumbled with his mother's, fighting and crashing and burning in his skull. The longer she holds him, the stronger her words become until they're the only ones left.


	38. Chapter 38

AN: Takes eight years to find Roy. Takes a few months of research and five minutes to get the Scarab off-mode. Logic.

Disclaimer: Obviously not my show.

Test

Open books and papers are scattered haphazardly around his room, covering his desk, floor, and bed. Though he should probably be focusing on one at a time, his mind is moving too rapidly and he's jumping from topic-to-topic every few minutes.

He has another placement test.

Really, he should have seen this coming—school starts in a little over a month, and if he's being enrolled, it'll have to happen soon—but when Dinah told him yesterday that he had a week to prepare, he'd still been blindsided. Even though he's dedicated that last five months to memorizing everything he reads, it feels as though he's not ready, that he'll _never_ be ready, and it's making studying all that much harder. Things he's good at—English, biology, geometry—seem like foreign language now, and it might just be nerves or a sign that he's still functioning at an elementary level.

"Cam!" Wally's voice calls, right outside his room. "Come out, dude! Robin got this wicked new video game and he did some weird computer-nerd thing with the system so the five of us can play!"

"Can't," he returns, glancing at the clock and wondering how it became two in the afternoon so quickly. "I have to study."

"Study?!" The door swings over and the ginger speeds in, a whirlwind of worksheets and loose-leafs fluttering in the air. "Cam, it's summer! You can't possibly be studying for—"

"I have a placement test in a week," he cuts him off, stomping around to gather his materials. "And if I screw this one up like I did the last time, I'm never going to school."

"Oh." Even though he never really talked to anyone about this but Artemis, it's no secret that it's a sore spot for him. "Well, it's in a week, man. You can't seriously expect to spend an entire week cramming. That's not even healthy."

"Look, I just want to get _one_ year of high school in. And I need to do well on this."

"And you will. Seriously, dude, you've worked harder than everyone on this team combined in regards to school work. You're smart."

He snorts in response and sits down on his bed. Wally sighs and sits next to him. "Please, Cam, don't do this to yourself. So far today, how long have you been studying?"

"Since eight," he mumbles.

"_Six hours_?! You're going to drive yourself crazy!" Grabbing onto his wrist, Wally tries to drag him to his feet. "Getting your mind off of this stuff will be good for you."

Before he can respond, Robin appears, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you two coming or what?"

"Cam here doesn't want to play," Wally explains as he jumps to his feet. "Says he has to study for a placement test that's in a week."

"A week?" Eyebrows shoot up from behind the sunglasses. "No one studies for a week."

"See? And Robin's a total nerd."

The younger boy crosses his arms over his chest. "I am not a nerd."

"Are."

"Are not!"

"Are!"

"Well, you're a geek!"  
"No, I'm not!"

"If I'm a nerd, then—"

"Not that your bickering isn't positively _fascinating_," Cam drawls, "but I have to focus on this."

"How long does it take to get someone?" Connor and Kaldur are now here, Connor with a scowl on his face.

"And it's a reunion," Cam mutters, throwing the papers in the air.

"Cam doesn't want to play because he says he has to study for his placement test in a week," Robin reiterates.

"Which is absolutely insane because no one should study for that long," Wally adds.

"Look, guys, please, can you just leave be? I need to ace the test."

"No you don't," Connor objects. "You can bomb a few sections and those will be the classes you take in school."

"Brilliant!" Wally practically shouts.

Cam covers his face with his hand. "I need to not bomb most of them. Which means I need to study. Which means I need peace and quiet."

"If Cam believes he should be studying, then it is not our place to stop him," Kaldur says solemnly.

"Kaldur," Robin whines.

"You're such a killjoy," Wally mutters.

"_But_ I do feel that it would be beneficial if he allowed himself to spend time on something else."

"See? Even Kaldur says you should." Wally's demeanor has shifted amazingly. "And he's leader, so it's practically an order—"

"Okay, okay, fine!" Accepting defeat, he stands. "Let's go play."

They play for a while, but when they're finished—Robin having won most of the levels—they refuse to let him go back to his room. It's mostly Robin and Wally doing the insisting, but even Connor and Kaldur keep saying that he needs to "relax." Clearly, they don't get how big of a deal this is, and no matter how many times he tries to explain it, they're not going to. By the time they release him, it's almost midnight, and he's too tired to bother with studying. Setting his phone alarm for eight, he blasts the volume and slips into sleep.

His plan to study for the whole day is shattered by mid-afternoon with the arrival of a half-Kryptonian, a speedster, and an acrobat.

"We're going to help you ace this thing," Wally says as he saunters into the room, not even bothering to knock. The others are right behind him.

"What?"

"Robin's a math expert; I'm your chemistry guy; and Connor has everything else. We'll help you study."

"Not that you need it," Connor throws in.

"And by study, we mean like normal people," Robin continues. "Two hours a day, max."

"But—"

"No buts. You'll do worse if you psyche yourself out. So, math first?"

He knows there's no way of getting out of this, and he trusts them, so he agrees. Their two-hour policy is strictly enforced, Wally zipping around the room and gathering all the materials. "And _now _we enjoy summer."

The pattern doesn't change for the rest of the week, and on the day of the test, he's feeling confident.

Until Dinah shows up with a hundred thousand pages of questions and he wants to crawl under a rock.

"You ready?" she asks him softly.

"Y-yeah," he lies, passing the six pencils nervously between his hands. "It's open-note, open-book, open-Google, open-friend, right?"

"You're going to be fine," she promises. "You know this."

"But what if I don't pass?"

"Don't think like that."

"But it's possible."

"You will pass," she murmurs. "But if, somehow, you don't, that doesn't mean anything."

It does. It means he's stupid, that he wouldn't last in high school, that he's wasted his time even trying to become any smarter than he was. He can't tell her this, though, because he can't be worrying about the test _and _her wanting to analyze him, so he manages a weak nod and sits down.

"Good luck," she tells him, placing the test before him.

The next four hours—yes, _four_—are a blur, and he represses any memories of the exam as soon as he hands it to his mentor. Wearily, he retreats to his room and flops on his bed, hoping for the best and expecting the worse.

"Cam?"

"Come in."

The three boys enter. "How'd it go?" Robin asks.

"Don't know."

"How do you think it went?" Wally tries.

"Don't know."

"Do you know how to answer the questions?" Connor demands.

"I think."

"You think?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he mutters. "Or think about it. Or even acknowledge its existence."

There's a moment of silence. "You did fine," Robin says.

"How do you know?"

"Because you knew everything we went over," Wally responds. "Now, come on. Let's shoot some hoops. Get your mind off this."

Dinah finds them there a little while later, in the midst of a game of two-on-two. Noticing her, Cam completely ignores the ball until it hits him in the chest. It barely registers as he approaches her. "You graded it?"

She nods. "Cam, I'm so sorry."

The whole world stops spinning. He knows the others are listening.

"You're going to have to dedicate seven hours of your day for 190 days to senior year."

"Really?!" he shrieks (in a dignified way, of course).

She smiles and pulls him into a hug. "You did great, Cam."

"Told you you could do it!" Wally cheers, slapping him on the back.

"No doubt," Robin agrees.

And Connor, Mr. Sensitive, adds, "Not that school's even that great, anyway."

Maybe it's not to them, to any normal teenager, but it is to him. And he finally gets to go back.


	39. Chapter 39

AN: It's my mom's birthday! Love you, Mom!

Disclaimer: Nope.

Birthday

He's eighteen today.

Awakening earlier than normal for seemingly no apparent reason, he checked the calendar and felt a grin breaking across his face. August 24th. Now, he's just lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, still grinning. Even though he's not sure if anyone even knows it's his birthday—he never mentioned it before, and he's not sure if Artemis will remember—it doesn't matter. Just having made it for this long is enough for him; not being in prison is even better; and being a _hero_ is the best.

An irritated scratching at his door brings his attention to reality, and a low growl prompts him to open up. Wolf is snarling, practically glaring at him as he tries to shake the paper party hat off his head.

"What, you don't like it?" Cam asks teasingly, dropping to his knees to help his pet. "No, I'm not laughing at you! I'm just smiling, really. Now, don't give me that look." He tosses the offending article to the floor, and Wolf bites it in half. "See? All better. Now, let's find the cruel, cruel people who did that to you."

The canine takes off in a run, and Cam trails behind, only contemplating for a second about changing out of his sweats and then deciding that he really doesn't care enough.

The Team, Billy, Dinah, and even Roy are waiting in the living room, which has junk food galore scattered around. When he's barely in line of sight, they all scream, "Happy birthday!" and Artemis rushes forward, crushing him in a hug.

"Thanks, guys," he says, feeling himself blush. Glancing down at Artemis, he questions, "You?"

"Duh." She pulls away and meets his eyes, almost insulted. "You think I could forget my best friend's birthday?"

"'Course not."

"Open presents!" Billy shouts, racing toward him, a hastily wrapped package in his hands. "This one's mine. Open it, okay?"

"Alright, alright," he responds with a chuckle. He gets to Billy's height and takes it from him, shakes it gently, then rips it open. It's a football.

"I, I, I figured you liked football," Billy says quickly. "You do, right? If, if you don't, my uncle has the receipt—"

"No way, little dude, it's awesome," Cam promises as he ruffles his hair. Turning toward the rest of the group, he spreads his arms wide and declares, "Lavish me with gifts!"

"I was going to get something you really needed, but lives aren't for sale," Roy offers.

"That's alright; you're all I need, big boy," Cam returns without missing a beat.

"And maybe a closet," Robin adds under his breath, and him and Wally burst out laughing.

"I hate you," Roy grumbles, face matching his hair.

Billy looks around in confusion, and Megan diffuses the situation by jumping in: "Here's mine. Well, mine and Zatanna and Raquel's."

"We tried so hard on this, so if you don't like it, don't tell us," Zatanna explains, handing it to him.

"Uh, okay."

It turns out to be a Happy Harbor Hornets t-shirt, a dark blue hoodie with _Cool as Ice_ on the back, and a gift card for i-Tunes because, according to Raquel, "You're going to need your i-Pod a lot to drown out all the idiots at school."

The guys, not ones for sentimentality, just kind of throw their gifts toward him and, of course, only the fancy, florescent thingamajig—clearly an Atlantian creation—has a note. He's pretty sure he can figure out who got him what, though: the stack of video games is from Robin, the _Dating for Dummies_ must be from Roy, Wally had to have gotten him the _Five Hundred Ultimate Pranks to Play on Your Friends_, leaving the backpack to be from Connor.

"Wow, what jerk got him the backpack?" Wally snickers behind his hand.

"It's practical!" the Kryptonian nearly shouts. "And I didn't know what else to get him."

"It's cool, Connor," Cam says quickly, partly because he does need it for school and partly because Wally's about to be thrown through a wall. "Besides, at least your gift doesn't insult my ability to speak to females."

"Whatever." Roy shrugs. "Just trying to help you out."

"Oh, thank you for your infinite wisdom. I am sure to always go to you for dating advice, seeing as you are currently involved with a ruthless assassin with a _fetish _for felines."

Roy growls, sending a death glare to the Team members, all of whom are either laughing or struggling to conceal it, and it's Dinah this time who intervenes.

"Happy birthday, Cam," she tells him, pulling him into a tight hug and kissing his forehead. When she releases him, she hands him a card and a small package.

Gingerly, he opens the card first. A simple, italicized _18_ is on the front, but the inside has a hand-written note:

_To the best protégé I could ask for. You have done so much in so little time, and you never cease to amaze. Your courage and bravery is astounding, and your compassion is unmatched. You deserve every good thing that comes your way—you've earned it._

_Love, Dinah_

His throat burns a little, and he forces himself to swallow a few times before moving onto the gift. It's a choker necklace, made of light blue material, with two small beads in the front, one black, the other clear. A few moments of processing and he realizes that they stand for her and him, Black Canary and Ice.

"Thanks, Dinah," he murmurs, wanting to say more but not knowing how.

"There's something else, too." She presents him with another card, adding, "This one's not from me. It was delivered to the Hall of Justice."

At first, he wonders who it could be from, but one glance at the return address and it's obvious: Belle Reve.

_Cameron,_

_Well, you're eighteen. Probably thought I would have forgotten. Thing about me, though, for as crappy as a parent as I've been, I always remember. Because you're my kid, no matter what. So enjoy it. When—if—I manage to convince these pinheads that I'm a "low-level threat" and join the Work Release Program, I'll get you a real present._

_Crystal, Leo, and Victor all say happy birthday._

_Dad_

"Who was it from?" Billy asks, inching over to try and read it.

"My dad," he says softly.

"Probably has a tracking device in it," Roy mutters jokingly.

"Yes, Roy, if they snuck advanced technology into Reve again, they would totally utilize it to track find us and not, you know, get out of prison," Raquel counters.

"Yeah, Roy, you're so dumb," Robin adds, ducking behind the couch for protection.

"Hey, hey, hey. Kill each other after Cam gets my gift," Artemis instructs. Sliding an envelope and flat package toward him, she continues, "Gift first, then card."

"Even on my birthday, you're bossy," he chides with a click of his tongue, working at the bright red and yellow wrapping paper.

"Oh, shut up."

A collage of pictures—him and her, him and the Team—are on a poster board, shielded by a glass frame, and it suddenly makes sense why she's been insisting on taking photos in the past few months. Before he can thank her, though, two things catch his eyes. One is a dried, withered flower ring, and the other is a hand-drawn picture of him and Artemis.

"When'd you do this?" he asks, pointing to the drawing.

"I was ten, I guess. We were supposed to train one day, but your dad came by himself and said you'd gotten hurt last mission. I was going to give it to you next time I saw you, but I got embarrassed and chickened out."

"You kept it all these years?"

"Never had the heart to get rid of it. Or the ring, either."

"Ring?" Wally repeats with a raised eyebrow.

"It's just a flower," Cam clarifies. "We were bored and I made it into a ring. No big deal."

_I just proposed to her with it._

"Okay, now the card." She wags it in front of his face.

"Jeez! Will you give me five seconds?!"

"No. Now."

"Okay, okay, fine. Sheesh, you'd think you'd want to admire the gift. You're so difficult."

The light punch to his should prompts him to move faster. Still making snarky comments, he starts to read:

_Cam,_

_You've been my best friend for years. Through Hell and back, we made it to the other side. I'm not going to talk about how sorry I am for not trying to get you to join sooner or for tricking you at the station—because I know you'd be angry if I did, even though I really, really am sorry. I just want to tell you that you are _amazing_. You were my rock, my knight, and you kept me from falling into a really dark place. You are one of the sweetest, gentlest guys I know, and you always put others before yourself. You've always been a hero, even if you could never see it before, because you were my hero ever since day one. Now you're eighteen—legally an adult, which is completely terrifying—and that hasn't changed. Have a great birthday._

_Love, _

_Artemis_

And he knows the love she means isn't the love he means, knows that they'll probably never be the same, but as he rereads and rereads the letter, he tells himself that it's enough, better than enough.

"Thanks, Rapunzel," he whispers, throwing his arms around her.

"You're welcome, Frostbite," she returns, and for a brief, fleeting second, he almost thinks he feels her lips on his cheek.

Best. Birthday. Ever.


	40. Chapter 40

AN: Dear Cartoon Network: What happened in _Endgame?_ Not what we had in mind. Sincerely, Frostbite shippers.

Disclaimer: Nope.

Alteration

He's sitting on his bed, backpack by his side, organizing his supplies and filling his binders with loose-leaf. There's over a week until the first day, but, as lame as it sounds, he's really excited. To be going back after all these years…it's hard to believe.

A knock sounds at his door, and he calls, "Come in."

"Hi, Cam," Dinah says. "Getting ready?"

"Yeah. Just so I don't forget and rush and stuff."

It comes out a lot less intelligent than he had hoped, but his mentor doesn't even seem to notice. "Actually, that's why I came to talk to you," she murmurs, taking a seat next to him.

The sadness is impossible to miss, and he doesn't like where this is going. "What's wrong? I'm still going, right?"

"Yes, you're still going, but—"

"As a senior, right?"

"As a senior, yes."

"Then what's wrong?"

A small sigh escapes her. "You weren't registered as Cameron Mahkent."

"What?" He tries to read her facial expression but gets no answers. "What do you mean I wasn't registered as myself?"

"The League thought it would be too dangerous."

"I thought I was a member of the Team, not the League," he mutters bitterly. "Since when do they have a say in what happens to me? And hasn't my record been cleared?"

"You're part of the Team, which works as a part of the League. And the League has to care for its own. As for your record, it may be gone, but your father's isn't, and his true identity is no secret. If it got around what school you attended, you could become a target."

"I'm already a target because of my skin. That's no secret, either. I mean, the villain community knows who I am no matter what. Changing my name won't do much."

"But changing your skin will," she returns, so quietly he almost doesn't hear.

"You're kidding, right?" He wants to say it with a laugh, but it gets caught in his throat and sounds strangled.

"I'm afraid not." Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out a small ring, the kind that people get for their graduating class. "Zatanna put a low-level Glamour Charm on it."

"Low-level?"

"Normally, it completely alters someone's physical appearance and voice. This one will just change the color of your skin and hair."

"Just," he repeats under his breath, but not quite quietly enough.

"I'm sorry, Cam, I really am." Her arm wraps around his shoulders. "I know this must be hard, after what your—"

"So who am I registered as?" he interrupts because he is _not _talking about her.

"Cameron Kent."

"Wait, wait, back up," he protests, hands out in front like a coach annoyed at a play. "That's Connor's last name. What am I supposed to be, his brother?"

"Cousin, actually."

"Oh, yeah, because that's going to be totally believable. I'm, like, one-sixth of him! What, did the League run out of creative juices?"

"We thought it would be nice if you could keep some of your last name," she explains.

"It would be nice if I just got to keep my name," he grumbles, knowing he sounds like a child and not caring. Five years of being kept out of school, and when he can finally go back, it's not even as himself.

"I'm sorry. But it is in your best interests. You need some way to protect your identity."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Are you okay? We can talk, if you want."

"No, I'm okay. Really," he promises, flashing his grin.

She doesn't seem to believe him, but she doesn't press the issue, either. "Alright. I'll see you tonight for patrol."

The smile falls from his face the second she leaves the room, and he glares at the ring beside him.

He doesn't want a new identity. Ever since his dad started training him, he'd been Icicle Junior, villain in training, and Cam Mahkent faded, bit by bit. Being human wasn't enough, and being a child didn't matter; the beatings had taught him that. So he tried to conform himself, fit into the mold that had been crafted, and as he grew older and lost contact with Artemis, it seemed to work. A cruel, sadistic façade had engulfed the meek, vulnerable teen, and after a while, he stopped remembering who he really was underneath all that ice. When he did remember, when he did break free from the carefully created illusion, he didn't hate himself, not like he did when he was younger. He might have been a screw-up, but at least he wasn't a mistake; even after his worst blunders, Joar never said that he hated him, never made him think he shouldn't have been born, and the bruises along his arms and torso were miniscule compared to the scars criss-crossing his soul.

Since joining the Team, he's been healing. Ice and Cam are one and the same, not distinct personalities separated by a frozen shield. He's not afraid when he's just Cam, not vicious when he's Ice, and he can look at himself and not be ashamed or embarrassed by what he sees, not spot every little flaw and wonder why he can't be better.

And now that's going to be taken away from him.

Getting to his feet, he stands in front of the mirror and, with a ragged breath, slips the ring on his finger. Grayish-purple is replaced by creamy tan, and white shifts to platinum blonde.

Jesus Christ, he looks like her.

For a quarter of an hour, he never turns from his reflection, from _Cam Kent_, who is not and cannot be the same as _Cam Mahkent_, because the former is the child his mother always wanted, the one she spent years trying to make him. The former is the one who will be going to school and making friends. The former is the one who'll be living the life the latter always dreamed of returning to.

Acid burns in his stomach, and he hastily grabs for his phone and sends _Plz come to the Cave_ to the one person he knows will understand.

Artemis is calling his name no more than two minutes later.

"Come in," he says, moving to discard the ring and deciding against it.

"Cam, what's wrong? Are you—what happened?" She enters the room slowly, mouth agape. "You're…you're…"

"Normal?" he offers.

"No. I mean—how?"

"Glamour Charm," he explains, showing her the jewelry. "Zatanna's work. I need it when I go to school."

"When you go…?"

"I can't go in my normal skin because then they'll all know I'm Icicle's son. Same reason I can't go as Mahkent."

She leans against the doorframe, studying him and absorbing the information. "If you're not going as Mahkent, what are you going as?"

"Just Kent."

"Isn't that—?"

"Yes, it is. I'm supposed to be his cousin."

"You two don't look anything alike."

"Tell that to the League. They're the geniuses that came up with this plan." After a moment, he mutters, "Mother dearest would be so pleased. I'm finally all she's ever wanted."

"I'm sorry."

"It just sucks, you know? Because I've been okay with who I am and now…now I could be _this_. I wouldn't be a freak."

"You've never been a freak."

"Normal people don't look like me."

"Normal people don't save lives, either. This is just for security reasons; you're still you."

"But what if I don't want to be me anymore? What if I end up liking this better than I like myself?" The weakness in his voice disgusts him, but he doesn't stop. "It took me _years _to stop hating how I looked, to stop hating who I was. And now I'm becoming someone different and I don't want to like them more than I like myself. I don't, I don't want to go back to how it was before; I don't want to hate taking this ring off."

"Cam, that ring and that fake last name mean nothing." She stands behind him, hands on his shoulders. "You will always be the sensitive, caring guy with the horrible sense of humor. So maybe no one at school knows your last name is really Mahkent. I know, the Team knows, _you _know. You won't become anyone else because there is no one else to become. You are amazing as you are." Sliding her hand down his arm, she grips the ring and eases it off his finger. "And if it means anything to you," she continues in a whisper, gesturing to the mirror, "I like _this _Cam better."

He stares at his image, his real self.

It takes a few seconds, a few mental shakes to free himself of his mother's degrading insults, before he smiles.


	41. Chapter 41

AN: April is Child Abuse Prevention Month! Check out my story Concrete Angel for more information.

Disclaimer: Clearly not.

School

"This is so exciting," Megan exclaims. "First day of senior year!"

"It's gonna be the same as last year," Connor mutters, glaring at his oversized backpack.

"Hey, try not to ruin the moment for the rest of us," Cam protests. "Besides, dude, this is the big year. You're head of the school."

"My life is complete," he drawls with a roll of his eyes. "Can we just go and get this over with?"

"Wait, wait, not yet," Dinah protests. She arrived just after Cam awoke, and he's pretty sure she's more nervous than he is. Her hands on his shoulders, she says, "Okay, just relax, and have fun, and ask questions if you have any. You have Megan or Connor in all of your classes except Calculus 3, so keep that in mind. And if you need anything, I'm sure your _cousin _will be more than happy to help out."

"Or shove you in a locker," the half-Kryptonian grumbles, and there's a high possibility that he's kidding, but he's never really established the ability to differentiate his voice.

"Connor!" Megan gasps. Turning to Cam, she promises, "Don't worry, Cam, I'll have your back. The whole squad will."

"The varsity cheerleaders as my friends? I could get use to that. Hurts, doesn't it, Connor?"

"_I _have a girlfriend."

"Why have one when you can have them all?"

"Watch it," Dinah chides.

Cam just offers a cheeky grin and a quick hug. "I'll talk to you tonight, promise."

"You better. Now go on—can't be late your first day. And Connor, can you at least _try _to smile?"

The clone bares his teeth briefly before heading toward the exit, and Cam and Megan race to keep up.

High school is _totally _different from elementary school. Vague memories of kids sitting in their classes, waiting for the bell, seem to be from an alternate reality compared to this, teens standing outside the building, talking and laughing with friends. For the first time, it sinks in that he's the new kid, and his grip tightens on his backpack.

"Megan!"

A girl with short black hair breaks through the crowd and tugs Megan into a hug. More follow, all matching in their cheerleading uniforms. As they begin conversing in rapid, incoherent girl speak, Cam glances at Connor, who shakes his head to indicate that he is just as clueless.

"And who is _this_ fine thing?"

It takes a few seconds for him to realize that he is the object of the sentence, and by the time he does, the squad has turned its collective attention upon him, a specimen under a microscope. He wants to say something—Hell, he'll settle for saying _anything_—but his tongue turns to sandpaper and ceases to function.

"This is Cam," Megan explains before quickly introducing him to her friends. "He just moved here from Kansas. He's Connor's cousin."

"Cousin?" Karen, the girl who had called him fine, raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "You're telling me you two are related?"

Self-defense mechanism activating, his shyness is replaced by his macho-man persona. With a shrug, he lazily returns, "Yeah, I know. I got the looks, he got…well, we're not too sure yet."

They giggle, but Connor scowls and shoves him none-too-gently, growling, "I think they meant because I actually have muscle and you're a toothpick."

"Muscle only gets you so much. Charm takes you the rest of the way." With a flourish, he grabs Karen's hand and kisses it. When he notices a very large, very angry-looking boy stomping over, he can't let go fast enough.

"Who is this?" the boy demands, scrutinizing Cam, who has to summon every ounce of self-control not to flee. "And why is he touching my girlfriend?"

"Oh, calm down, Mal," Karen insists. "He's new. He didn't mean no harm. Right, Cam?"

"R-right," he stammers, ignoring a smirking Connor. Damn, Karma's an insta-bitch. "Sorry."

Mal keeps glaring at him, clearly contemplating murder, but before he has a chance to act, Connor steps in. "He's my cousin. He's no threat, I swear."

Cam snorts indigently but nods in response. Mal seems still seems displeased, slinging his arm around Karen's shoulders, though he lets the matter drop.

"So, Cam, what brought you here from Kansas?" Wendy asks.

He's grateful for the obvious topic switch, but the question catches him off guard. "I, um, I'm living with my aunt and uncle this year. My parents thought it would be good for me."

"What? You get into trouble at home?" This is coming for Mal, who seems to be seeing him in a new light, part doubtful and part admiring.

Not one to disappoint, he coolly explains, "Yeah. Killed a man. You know. Stuff happens."

For the longest five seconds in the world, the group just looks at him. Finally, Mal bursts out laughing and slaps him playfully on the back. "You're funny. I like you."

The one-eighty switch in opinion is welcomed and completely worth the now throbbing pain emanating through his back. Conversation proceeds for a few more minutes before the screech of imprisonment resounds, and he groans with the rest of them, just to fit in. Mentally, he's practically jumping up and down, and yeah, that's totally not normal, but not being normal has kind of been his forte.

AP Lit is first, and all they do is get their first assignment—a task purely for "measurement purposes," which means the teacher wants to see how much they suck at writing—and talk about their summers. It's a nice start and stark contrast to AP Chemistry, where they're bombarded with rules, expectations, and the whole first month's jam-packed calendar. He leaves with a headache, which is not helped when he has to split with Connor and Megan for homeroom and then, the horror, Calculus 3.

"See you in Honors History," Megan says cheerily as she heads the opposite way down the hall.

"You'll be fine," Connor adds, seeming to sense his hesitation.

"Duh, dude. No problem."

He then proceeds to get lost, arriving at homeroom one minute before the dismissal and blubbering excuses to the teacher. Even though Mr. Smith is chill with his lateness, unmarking him absent without giving any grief, he can still feel his face heating up, and he keeps his head down when he leaves the room, pretending that the whispers about "the new kid" don't refer to him.

In Calc, he sits in the corner, not willing to insert himself into the middle when everyone obviously knows everyone else. This is his worst subject, and this time, he really does groan when they're handed a practice sheet. While his classmates break off into groups, he plays the lone wolf, muddling his way through integrals, and he's the first out the door when it's time for lunch.

For every inaccuracy teen movies have, they are not wrong about the cafeteria. Each table holds a clique, even if he can't quite tell what that clique is, and it seems as though there just isn't enough room for him. He'd been so busy freaking out over Calc that he hadn't figured out a plan for lunch—Connor had first lunch, Megan, second, and now here he is, standing like a loser off to the side.

"Cam?"

It's Wendy, one of the cheerleaders. "Megan said you were in this lunch. You want to sit with me and my friends?"

"Yeah, sure, thanks." Without thinking, he continues, "I mean, if you _really _want me to. Don't want you begging or anything."

She laughs, thank God, and leads him to her table, which is half cheerleaders, half theater kids. He mostly observes—he can't risk saying anything stupid because he has nowhere else to go—but throws in a comment every now and then, and each smile or chuckle is a small victory.

"Did you have Wendy search for me in the cafeteria?" he asks Megan before History starts.

"What?" Her face reddens slightly. "I, no, I mean—"

"Thanks. I appreciate it.

"Oh. Okay. No problem, Cam." Dropping her voice, she questions, "How's your first day?"

He thinks it over. Maybe it's a little different from what he expected, but it's still nice, interacting with kids his own age. If he wants to make it, he's going to have to branch out more, but he's got time. "Good. Really good."


	42. Chapter 42

Disclaimer: Are we getting a third season? There's your answer.

Victory

Waking up early in the morning has never really been a problem for him, not with the training he's gone through since he was a kid, but now that he's on "school time," even waking up the slightest bit earlier than anticipated is a catastrophic blow. This learning experience comes when his phone blares at 5:45 instead of 6:15. Semi-conscious, he flails wildly before falling out of bed, head connecting with the nightstand. He groans and reaches for his cell, flipping it open to hit Dismiss only to realize that it's his ringtone, not alarm. As soon as he notices who's calling, he's wide awake and quickly asking, "What's wrong, Artemis? Are you okay? Did something—"

"I didn't have a nightmare." It's breathless and filled with exhilaration. "I slept through the whole night!"

"Really?" He sits up, a giant grin crossing his face.

"Yes! I didn't see him, I didn't relive it, and, and it's just…it feels great." There's a sudden shift in her tone, and she speaks more quietly. "I forgot what it's like, you know? To not…not go through that again."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "Not about not having a nightmare, that's awesome, but having to deal with this in the first place."

"I know. Thanks, Cam." There's a pause, followed by a small, humorless laugh. "It's really sad that I got this excited over getting a normal night's sleep."

"Don't say that," he protests. "This is a big deal. After everything you've been through, it's amazing."

"I guess."

"You guess? Artemis, you're being too hard on yourself. You have every right to be happy about this. It's a victory, and you've totally earned it. Please, don't put yourself down. Don't over think it or analyze it—be excited. You _deserve _to be excited. Please."

It takes a few moments for her to answer. "You're right, Cam."

"Am I ever not?"

"Yes, actually. Plenty of times."

"Hey!"

She laughs again, but this one is real, and his smile widens because he loves that sound. "Thanks, Cam. You always know what to say. Look, I have to get ready. I'll text you tonight."

"You better. Bye."

"Bye."

He hangs up but stays sitting, a little stunned, the information still sinking in. Even though the rape happened eight months ago, and even though Artemis has been getting better, it's still fresh, in a way. Memories of finding her on the cold warehouse floor, cradling her while she cried, watching as her exhausted sleep became nightmare-plagued spring upon him every now and again, and, though they've been few and far between recently, there are days when Artemis looks tired, weary, and her body tenses with even the slightest touch. She's a fighter, but she's human, too, and knowing that she deals with this burden kills him. His best friend, his teammate, his secret love, she means the world to him, and being helpless to make everything better is the hardest thing. That's why he was so willing to stay awake until she contacted him—it was all he could do to help her feel better, get her to fall asleep and forget, for only the shortest amount of time, that Terror had hurt her. Even after she officially broke that contact, he still kept his communicator with him, just in case, until he got his phone and had that on all night instead. He wants her to get better, and he knows she could only do this by sleeping without him talking to her, but he feels guilty nonetheless because she struggles every night and there's nothing he can do.

Knowing now that the nightmares have stopped—and he believes that, believes that this isn't a fluke because it would just _crush_ _her_ if they returned—is a relief, and it makes him admire her even more, her strength and her courage.

School is a blur, his mind somewhere else completely, and once it's over, he goes right into town instead of the Cave. As he suspected, Hallmark does not have a card for this occasion, so he ends up buying a stuffed bear with CONGRADULATIONS on the stomach. It's lame, he knows, but he also knows that she'll appreciate it.

He zetas to Gotham and walks to her apartment, deciding against texting her first because he wants to surprise her. From the shocked expression when she opens the door, he knows it worked.

"Hey." Now that he's standing in front of her, he doesn't know what to say. "Uh, I got this for you."

"You didn't have to do this," she protests, taking the gift.

"I know, but I wanted to. It's a big deal."

"Thank you." Her voice is soft as she hugs him. "Cam, this is so sweet."

"Sweet's my middle name. Changed it from Totally Awesome."

She snorts. "You're so weird."

"Like this is news to you?"

"No, not really."

"Exactly. So, you got a lot of homework tonight?"

"No. Why?"

"I figured we could go to the playground. If you want, I mean."

Her grey eye sparkle, like precious silver, and his heart skips a beat (and he only briefly wonders if this is how Wally gets every time he sees her). "I'd like that, Cam. Let me just tell Mom. But first, I need to fix something." She takes his right hand in hers, prying off the ring he forgot he was wearing. "There. There's my Cam."

They head to the park, the bear held tightly in Artemis's grip. No one else is there, which is why he doesn't hesitate to take a flying leap onto an empty seat. In a second, Artemis is beside him, and they swing and talk and laugh until the sun dips behind the horizon and the pale blue fades to soft pink.

"Need to get back?" he asks.

She sighs, feet sliding in the dirt. "Probably. Thanks for the bear."

"Pssh. It was nothing." Glancing her way, words stumbling on his tongue, he hastily says, "I'm, I'm really happy for you. That you're getting better. Not, not that there was anything wrong with you, but just, just that—"

"I get it," she interrupts, saving him. "And I just want to say thank you. For helping me through this. I…I don't even know where I'd be without you."

"You'd be fine."

"No, I wouldn't. You did so much for me. I know you don't believe that, and I know I'll never convince you otherwise, but you did. So thank you."

"Best friends," he returns, because those two simple words mean so much more. He hops off first and drops in front of her. "C'mon, I'll give you a piggy-back ride."

"I can walk," she objects.

"I know. But I can carry you."

She rolls her eyes but slips her arms around his neck. "You think your scrawny little twig arms can hold me?"

"Please. They can hold up the world."

If he had to hold it for her.


	43. Chapter 43

AN: Yes, it is what you're all thinking. Kind of.

Disclaimer: Nope.

Break-Up

For the first time in a while, he actually has plans to go out on a Friday night. Excited—Wendy keeps promising that there will be plenty of hot girls for him to poorly flirt with—he goes right to his room after school to get ready. Immediately, he knows that there's no chance of him leaving tonight.

Artemis is curled on his bed.

Bawling her eyes out.

It takes a few moments to process the scene—because this is _Artemis_ and he's never seen her so vulnerable since that dark night in Gotham—but when he does, he rushes to her side. "What's wrong? What happened?"

Through the quivering and sobbing, he manages to hear, "Wally and I broke up."

And of all the things that were running through his mind, he'd never even considered that an option; Artemis and Wally were perfect. At least, they seemed that way.

"What? Why?"

"W-we just, it just haven't been the s-same," she explains after a few deep breaths. "It's not b-bad or anything, just…there's no spark anymore. We have fun and all, but…not like boyfriend and girlfriend; just as friends. And we don't text every night, like we used to, and, and I don't mind, you know? It's okay if we spend a couple of days apart or if he hangs out with his friends without me and I do the same." She sighs. "It was mutual. We spent half the night last night talking it over, and we agreed to see other people. And I was okay. I cried, but not too much. And then, then this morning I'm in school and I don't even _know_ but it hits me and, and I practically lose it. I get to fourth block, fake a sick stomach, and get the Hell out of there. I came right here. Oh _God_ I'm crazy."

"Artemis, you're not crazy, okay? Don't say that."

"Oh, leaving school early and crying like a maniac into your pillow is totally normal."

"He was your first boyfriend, Artemis. It's okay to be upset." He pauses, contemplating if he should say what he wants to say. "You could try again?"

"We did try. We've been trying for the past month."

"He, he makes you so happy. And you make him happy."

She props herself up on her elbow. "Not like before. Before, when I was with him, it was like we were the only two people in the world. Now…it's just not the same. I can't even explain it. I _am _happy with him, but I'm happy with you, too, and anyone on the Team, and kids from school…that special kind of happy I got from him? It's gone."

He doesn't understand how that could happen, but he doesn't want to push, not when the tears are still trickling down her face. Love is a mystery to him, and today is not the day to try and understand how it works.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and it's all he can say. "I'm so sorry."

"I'll be okay," she returns. "It's just a little raw right now, I guess." Wiping at her eyes, she inches off the bed. "Look, I shouldn't have lost my mind like this and play Occupy Wall Street in your room. And you probably have something to do—"

"Are you kidding?" he inquires, grabbing her by the upper arm. "C'mon, Artemis, this is _me_ we're talking about. You think I have anything better to do than be with my best friend right now? Look, sit down, get comfortable, maybe squeeze out my water-logged pillow; I'll be back in two minutes, promise."

"Thanks, Cam," she murmurs, voice heavy with suppressed sorrow.

He goes into the kitchen and opens the freezer, tugging out the container of Double Chocolate ice cream. As he shovels scoop after scoop into a bowl, he texts Wendy saying that something came up before returning to his bedroom.

"Is that Ben and Jerry's?" Artemis questions.

"No. I could get that instead, if you—"

"It's fine, Cam, I'm only kidding. Thank you." She takes the bowl from his outstretched hands. "Are you doing this because you think ice cream will make me feel better or because you think this is what all girls do when they break up?"

"Uh, both?"

She snorts, but a flicker of a smile flashes across her face. "When did my life become a cliché high school movie?"

"No offense, but nothing about your life is cliché. Seriously, name the last movie where there was a kick-ass teenage archer who doesn't take crap from anyone who has a totally awesome best friend and a group of equally awesome friends with super powers."

"Robin doesn't have super powers."

"What?"

"He doesn't have powers. You excluded him. And neither does Roy."

"Roy's not technically on the Team. And Robin has the power of training with Batman and not becoming a human statue. And honestly, that's all you got from my whole speech?"

"Your whole speech of two sentences?"

"Hey, I put a lot of thought into that!" He makes a lunge for the ice cream, and Artemis quickly pulls away. "You can just get your own dessert then."

"No, no, no!" she protests. "Indian giver!"

He stops his attack, pouting instead. She shakes her head and offers him a spoonful. "There. Better?"

"Much."

They spend the rest of the night talking, until it's almost midnight and Artemis has fallen asleep, her head on his shoulder. Easing himself from beneath her, he lays her down and drapes a blanket on top of her. His mind is racing too much to sleep, so he sits on the edge of the bed, thinking.

In a way, he supposes he should be happy—Artemis is single, finally, and there's no obstacle to her heart—but happiness is definitely an emotion he's not experiencing. Even though he loves Artemis, he never wanted her and Wally to break up. Both are his friends, and they were so good with one another. Besides, just because she's single doesn't change anything; even thinking about confessing his feelings now is totally insensitive, and he highly, _highly_ doubts she sees him in the same way. She's the assassin-turned-hero; he's her goofy best friend who stumbled onto the good team. It's a painful truth, but it's one he has to face now that the one tangible reason for not being with her is gone.

He glances at her, hair loose from the ponytail and cascading down her back. She looks like a goddess. She _is _a goddess. Kind and smart and brave and utterly out of his reach.

"I love you," he whispers, so quietly that he can barely even hear it.

It shatters like ice in the air.


	44. Chapter 44

Disclaimer: Are we getting new episodes?

Auction

"Hi, Cam!" Megan says, bouncing into the kitchen, a giant smile on her face.

Megan's always happy and perky, so this really shouldn't be out of the ordinary. There's a certain twinkle in her eyes, though, a certain way she's batting her eyelashes, and Cam knows something's up.

"Hey, Megan. How's it going?"

"Great!" She sits across from him at the table, smile growing. "So you know that the squad is in charge of raising money for Make a Wish, right?"

"Uh, it's only been on the announcements for forever."

"Well, we finally figured out a fool-proof way to raise it: an auction!"

"Auction?"

"Yeah, you know, when kind, willing, generous people volunteer to be bidden upon?" Leaning closer, she plants her elbows on the table and places her chin in her hands. "It'll be this Saturday. And we need all the people we can get."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow your roll there. Are you saying you want to _sell _me?"

"Not sell, just…okay, yes, technically sell, but it's only for one day! And you just have to hang out with whoever, er—"

"Buys me."

"No!"

"Yes, Megan, yes! Buy me. As though I am nothing but a piece of merchandise! Has my self-esteem not been shattered enough after years of harsh training to ready myself for the suffering and pain of the villainy world?"

"Oh, Cam, I'm sorry! I, I didn't think like that!"

"Naw, it's alright—I'm kidding. I'll do it."

"You will? Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She levitates from her seat and engulfs him in a hug. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, I tend to get that a lot. So, I gotta do anything for this, or do I just bring my sexy self to school on Saturday and let the ladies fight over me?"

"You can write an intro card if you want."

"How about this: Cam Kent, one _cool _dude, the man of your dreams."

"They can see you—they'll know you're lying," Connor protests, entering the room. "Why not, 'Scrawny teen with bad sense of humor?'"

"That cuts me real deep, Connor, that cuts me real deep. You know, maybe I won't—"

"No, no, no, you already said yes!" Megan objects.

"But your boyfriend hurt my feelings." He works up a pout and a puppy-dog face, the one he's been perfecting with help from Billy.

"Connor, apologize."

"Seriously? I was just joking!"

"Connor."

"This is ridiculous," he grumbles under his breath before saying through gritted teeth, "Cam, I am sorry."

"You don't _sound _sorry."

"Maybe I'll sound more sorry after you're locked in a closet for a couple of hours," he threatens with a glare.

Cam contemplates and, realizing that it's probably not a bluff, returns, "You know, apology accepted," before making a hasty retreat to his room to finish getting ready for school.

When the weekend rolls around, all the nerves he didn't have during the week spring upon him, so much so that he loses almost every round of sparring. The teasing insults from the Team just slide off him because his mind is so focused on what's about to happen soon enough. Even though he has friends at school, he's still technically the new kid, and he's not sure how many people outside the group know him. His biggest fear, one that didn't even cross his mind until right now, is that no one will bid on him, and that would be totally humiliating.

"Earth to Cameron!" Robin's hand waves rapidly in front of his face. "Anybody home?"

"What? Er, sorry, thinking."

"About what? The auction?" Raquel asks.

"Megan told you?"

"Duh. We're going," Wally explains with a wicked grin.

"What?! Why?"

"Emotional support. Plus, rumor mill is that there are some really hot girls at your school. Might throw my bid in there."

For a second, Cam expects Artemis to roll her eyes and punch his shoulder, expects Wally to flash a grin and quickly kiss her cheek, but then he remembers that they're no longer a couple, that they've been broken up for almost three weeks now, and it's strange and a little sad.

"You nervous?" is all she asks, barely acknowledging Wally's statement.

"No."

"You suck at lying."

"Do not!"

"Do too," Robin insists.

"Shut up, you little troll."

"Hey, that's not nice. You know, we might be the only people who actually place on you. You might not want to insult us."

"If Zatanna's the Italian, why are you the one acting like a mob boss?"

"Hey, that is a vicious stereotype against my people," the magician protests. "Keep it up and there'll be a horse head in your bed."

"What?" Megan gasps.

"Uh, nothing. Don't worry about it. Hey, we should probably hit the road. Want to get good seats and all that."

They head for school, and once there, Megan steers him toward the auditorium's stage. Behind the curtain, he observes the other auctionees, boys and girls, all looking totally unconcerned, borderline bored.

"You'll be fine," Megan promises before disappearing, no doubt to be with the other cheerleaders.

"Fine," he mutters, twirling his ring round and round, trying to keep calm and basically failing. He's so absorbed with not looking like an idiot that he misses half the boys going forward and only catches, "—with a great sense of humor, Cam Kent!"

Jolted to reality, he walks from backstage to the front, blinking in the bright lights. Off to the side, Megan calls, "Alright, starting with ten dollars. Who bets ten?"

Having not paid attention to the previous rounds, he's promptly freaking out that ten is way too low and that nobody wants him. Thankfully, a girl raises her hand and Megan continues, "Twenty, do I hear twenty?"

The bets keep coming, and the longer he stands up there, the more confident he gets. The impulsive side of him takes control and, rational side overrode because this _is _for a good cause, he shouts, "Hey ladies—you know what else I am? _Spontaneous_."

And then he takes off his shirt.

It's a good idea at the time—though, looking back, a lot of his good ideas actually suck—and the reaction from the crowd is instantaneous.

"One hundred!"

"Hey, sexy!"

"One-fifty!"

"Now the pants!"

"You still spontaneous even if I'm broke?"

"Two hundred!"

Poor Megan is clearly struggling to adapt, trying to keep a tally of all the bids while remaining professional. Maybe he should have thought this through a little more, especially since at least one teacher is present, but it's too late now. Besides, charity is charity, and with the money rising to four hundred, he can only mentally applaud himself.

"Three thousand dollars!"

Silence. Complete and total silence.

"Three thousand?" Megan squeaks. "Uh, okay, three thousand. Anyone higher?"

Obviously not.

"Alright, come on up!"

And from the back of the auditorium storms a very angry looking Artemis.

She steps onto the stage, quickly grabbing his tossed shirt and shoving it into his hands, hissing, "Put your shirt back on."

He obeys, suddenly terrified, and a chorus of "Aww!" fills the room.

Artemis shoots a glare at the audience before grabbing his wrist and dragging him off-stage and into the hallway. There, she crosses her arms over her chest and begins tapping her foot in irritation, and all Cam can do is bow his head, wondering why she's so upset but not being stupid enough to ask.

"What were you thinking?"

"Uh, I don't really know. It just kind of, happened?"

"I cannot believe you did that!" It's like he never even answered, but considering his response, he's really not that surprised. "Just stripping like that in front of your fricking school! God, Cam, really?"

"Look, Artemis, I'm sorry! I didn't think it was that big of a deal—"

"Not that big of a deal! Don't you know what most of those girls _thought _was going to happen if they won?"

"What do you…oh. Oh. But, I mean, no one could have really thought—"

"Yes, they could have really thought that!" She looks away and continues in a softer voice, "God, Cam, what were you _thinking_? Letting them ogle you like a piece of meat."

And now it suddenly makes sense and he hates himself for being so clueless. Of course she'd be sensitive to something like this, after what Terror did to her, and no duh she's upset with him.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."

She plays with her ponytail. "It's just…I mean…I'm probably overreacting to this…"

"No, you're not. I was being stupid. I'm sorry."

"Just…those girls were being so…ugh. Just, I don't know, everything was…ugh."

"I get it," he promises. "Really. What I don't know, though, is where you got three thousand dollars."

"Robin lent it to me."

"Robin has three thousand bucks handy? Christ, he is a mob boss."

"Something like that. So, I kinda own you for a day?"

"Technically."

"Cool." Her eyes light up mischievously. "Because my bows and arrows all need to be polished."


	45. Chapter 45

Disclaimer: I don't own this show. I do, however, own The Database (I think), Todd Marks, and this version of Cam. So I'm kinda okay.

Bully

Cam might be completely oblivious to some things, but there are just as many that he observes with a keen eye.

Take Billy. Cam's noticed that whenever the boy comes to the Cave, there's a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. So today, when he trudges inside, gripping the straps of his backpack for dear life, head hanging low, the cryokinetic _knows _there's something majorly wrong.

"What's a matter, little dude?" he asks gently, hopping of his seat at the counter.

In the next instant, Billy has thrown himself into his arms and buried his face in the crook of his neck. "Someone at school's being mean to me," he whispers.

"What? Who? Why?" And maybe bombarding him with questions isn't the best plan, but he's too shocked—because who the _Hell_ would bully such a sweet kid?—to think of a better plan.

"Todd Marks. He's in my class. And, and he talks about how I'm shorter than him, and he calls me names, and he takes my lunch, and, and, and…" Tears drip onto Cam's shoulder. "He makes fun of me because I don't have parents."

He grits his teeth in frustration but says nothing, knowing he won't be able to keep the anger out of his voice. Instead, he takes a few deep breaths while rubbing Billy's back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. Only when Billy stops crying does Cam murmur, "He's just a jerk, Billy. He makes himself feel better by putting you down. Just ignore him."

"I have! And it's just getting worse."

"Can you tell the teacher?"

"Be a snitch? No way. Besides, adults only make it worse."

And Cam can't deny that, not when he was a kid once, too, so he replies softly, "Alright, no adults. What do you want me to do, then?"

"I don't know," he mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. "I just want him to stop. Please, Cam, I don't know who else to go to."

A sudden lump forms in Cam's throat, and swallowing doesn't make it go away. "I'll figure something out, Billy. I promise."

It's out of his mouth before he can think it through. He shouldn't be making a promise he's not sure he can keep, not when Billy's at an age when a promise means everything (and he knows eleven's that age because _he _was eleven once and can still recall all the fragile promises that broke right before his eyes), but Billy believes in him, looks up to him, and he can't let him down.

"Really?"

"Really. Now c'mon, let's go to the park."

It gets Billy's mind off the situation—happening to run into the group of eight definitely helps—and he returns home relatively cheerful. Cam, though, is fuming on the inside, and he dedicates the rest of his night to finding information on this "Todd Marks." Planting himself at the computer, he accesses The Database, a Justice League-created mass account of virtually every human being on this earth. It takes a few hours before he finally stumbles across who he assumes is the right kid. According to the stats, he's the same age as Billy and goes to the same school. Another interesting tidbit is that he currently lives only with his mom after what seems to have been a bitter divorce; the bullet point that adds, "Father refuses to pay child support" is evidence of this.

Anyone else would probably have a far more mature, ingenious way to utilize this information, but Cam is not anyone else, which is why he ends up walking stalkerishly and creepily through Todd's neighborhood the next afternoon, waiting for him to get off the bus. It's varying levels of wrong and possibly illegal, but this is his best option, as sad as that sounds.

Just after four, Todd heads toward him, keeping separate from the other kids getting off the bus, and Cam, before he can think of backing out, meets him halfway. "Hey."

Todd's on the defensive immediately, eyes narrowing. "Who are you?"

"Friend of Billy Batson," he says aloofly.

"What are you doing here?" He's glancing around, but no one's nearby, and Cam almost feels bad. Almost. "What do you want?"

"Just to talk. Seems you're being mean to my friend."

He snorts. "He came crying to you? What a baby."

Only the fact that he's got a foot on this kid is why Cam doesn't go hero-mode on his ass. Letting out a hiss of breath, he counters, "What, you think picking on someone is cool?"

A shrug. "Maybe."

Impulse control not his strong suit, Cam sinks to the ground and pushes Todd. Not too hard, but not all the gently either.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"Picking on smaller kids is cool, right?" Even though he never had a plan, this development is still somehow deviating from it. He pushes again, and Todd retreats a few steps back. "I'm cool now, right?"

"Stop it!"

"Why should I? You don't stop when Billy asks you to."

"It's different!" he protests, throwing a sloppy punch.

Cam catches his wrist. "How?"

"It, it just is!" he insists, panic rising in his voice. "Now let go!"

He relents, and Todd jerks away but does not run. It's almost like he wants to see where this go, and to be truthful, Cam does, too.

"Why do you pick on him, huh? Just tell me that."

"'Cause I can."

"Because he's shorter than you?"

"Yeah."

"You find it funny? Making fun of him?"

"I guess."

"You guess? I'm no mind-reader here, kid. Tell me the truth."

"It's funny," he grumbles, mustering a pretty scary glare.

"Making fun of a kid who lost his parents is funny? Really? Is it funny if someone makes fun of you because your parents are divorced?"

That's the red-button, the one that shoves Todd over the edge. "Shut up!" he snarls, trying for another punch. It's as easily deflected as the first. "You shut up!"

"You don't like that, huh? How do you think Billy feels?"

"It's different!"

"How?"

"Because…because it is!" He's blinking furiously now, and as much as Cam doesn't like this kid, he doesn't want to make him cry.

"Alright, alright, calm down. Just hear me out, alright? Being a jerk to people isn't cool. It doesn't make you cool, and when it all boils down, it won't make you feel any better. Trust me, hurting others won't make whatever's troubling you go away."

"That's not why I'm doing it!"

"Then why are you?"

There's no answer.

"Exactly. If you're angry, talking about it will make you feel better."

"You sound like a stupid school assembly."

Realizing that he actually does, Cam returns, "So maybe I do. But some of those things are actually right. So do that instead, okay? Every time you want to bug Billy, think about how you'd feel if someone did that to you. Oh, and if I hear about you bullying my friend, or anyone else for that matter, you and I are going to have to have another chat."

Todd nods grudgingly and walks past him. Cam watches as he disappears down the street before heaving a sigh and going toward the zeta-transporter. This could have gone better. Infinitely better.

When Billy returns to the Cave a few days later, though, and crashes into him with a hug and a thousand thank-yous, maybe it went well enough.


	46. Chapter 46

Language warning. Nothing real bad, but, yeah.

And to Kelly1432, I don't think I'm taking this through _Invasion_. The five-year gap would be too hard to fill, plus I'm not all that pleased with what the creators did to our show during the second season. I do, however, promise to make a clear and totally awesome ending. Hopefully.

Disclaimer: Of course not.

Fight

Cam is slowly but surely getting use to this high school stuff. He's talking more in Calc and mingles with different tables at lunch, uses the right slang at the right time and joins in on class jokes.

The one thing, though, that he's not accustomed to, what he probably will never be accustomed to, is the way the boys talk sometimes. Now, he really shouldn't be one to judge, not when he makes sex jokes like it's his job, but what the guys say…it's different. Crueler, in a way. And maybe it's all for laughs, but Cam can only think about Artemis when they talk like this, and it makes his stomach churn.

There's this one kid in particular, Marshall, who just doesn't know when to shut up. He's a friend of Mal, which is why Cam is stuck around him so often, and the comments he makes about girls pisses the cryokinetic off so much sometimes. There's nothing he can do, though, not if he wants to survive the next year, because making enemies isn't the best way to do that.

Still, even he has a boiling point—freezing point?—and it's reached one day before classes, when the group is hanging together outside the cafeteria. How the topic is reached is long forgotten amidst Marshall's, "No means yes and yes means harder!"

The group laughs, but Cam just clenches his teeth and growls, "Dude, that's not funny."

Laughter is immediately replaced with silence, and Marshall tilts his head back and sneers. "Lighten up, Cam. It's a joke."

But it's not, not when his friend was raped, when he _knows_ that the only word running through her mind was _no_, and he owes it to her to stand up to this moron. "It's disrespectful."

"Oh, I got the polite police on my ass? How fricking cute." There's humor behind the words but not in his eyes, and the way the others are sizing up the situation tells Cam that this could be taking a turn very soon. "Calm down, bro. 'Sides, no girl never not wants it."

"What?" Cam demands, partly because that sentence just wasn't English and partly because he can't believe the sentiment he thinks is behind it.

"C'mon, girls always like it. Doesn't matter, you know? Really, I mean, it's all the same."

"Uh, no, it's not. Not even close."

"Look, let's just let this go," Megan intervenes, sending a nervous glance Cam's way. "It's not that big a deal."

Telepathically, she adds, _Please, Cam, drop this. Marshall has a temper, and he got suspended last year for fights._

"I know it's not a big deal—tell that to your friend." Marshall crosses his arms over his chest, and Cam realizes that they've somehow passed a point of no return, that Marshall is just going to keep egging him on. Well, if he wants a fight, he'll get one.

"Talking the way you do, I see why you can't keep a girlfriend, _bro_."

A low blow since Marshall has just broken up with a girl (though Cam doesn't really consider three days a long enough time to declare something a relationship), the statement causes a vein to pop on the larger boy's temple. Cracking his neck, he counters, "Why would I keep them when I've already gotten everything I've wanted? I snap my fingers, those bitches just spread like butter."

"You're disgusting."

"Or maybe you're just a pussy."

"Alright, alright, cool it," Mal interrupts. "Enough, guys."

"Bet you he's a virgin," Marshall jeers, continuing as though Mal never spoke. "That right, Cam?"

"Yeah, I am," he returns, voice completely even. Maybe other guys would be embarrassed, but not being that way with a girl is something he's honestly proud of, and he doesn't care what Marshall or any other dumbass thinks. He'll wait as long as he has to.

Marshall lets out this loud, obnoxious laugh. "Jeez! I fricking knew it! No way any girl would get with you!"

"Aw, look at the time, the bell's gonna ring." Karen purposefully starts tugging Mal between Marshall and Cam, adding, "Really, guys, let's get going. Can't be late, they'll start taking senior privileges and all."

"Right! Come on, Cam, let's get to Lit." Megan's hand finds his wrist and starts pulling on him. "We have that quiz today, and I want to look over notes."

They don't have a quiz, and they barely even have notes, but Cam goes along with it anyway. Well, he _would _have gone with it if Marshall hadn't barked, "You gonna let a _girl_ string you along? Damn, you're a bigger loser than I thought! Don't you know how to be a man?"

And just the fact that Marshall would imply that a real man pushes women around is the final straw, and Cam snarls, "Big talk's for a guy with a small dick!"

The vein practically explodes as Marshall's face is stained red, and he raises his fist and swings it toward Cam. Mission after mission has prepared him to stop the attack, but he doesn't, not when he'll get in trouble for fighting back, not when the football player will be suspended again for this, and as the punch connects, he tells himself it's worth it.

Connor tackling Marshall, however, is not part of the plan, and as he stands there with blood gushing out of his nose, Mal is racing back to break them apart and the girls are screaming and a whole bunch of students have magically appeared and oh, look, here comes a teacher.

"Alright, alright, apart!" he shouts, grabbing Connor by the shoulders and yanking him to his feet. "Both of you, principal's office! Let's go!" He turns slightly and catches sight of Cameron for the first time. "You better come, too."

It's a long walk, and the stares from other students aren't making it any easier. Already, the whispers are rampantly getting passed along, and Cam is glad to be in the safety of the office, even though Marshall's sending him a death glare and the secretary has this disappointed look on her face, like she's getting too old for this. As she goes to get the principal, the teacher instructs them to sit, adding, "Apart."

They obey, and Cam leans back and closes his eye, wondering where in the Hell Marshall learned to punch like that and how long it's going to take until he can breathe normally without inhaling blood. He manages to get it somewhat under control by the time they're summoned, but that's when he notices his shirt looks like a crime scene. Huh. Good impression.

"There should be a very good explanation for why three students are here for a fight." It's said as soon as they're before her, in a no-nonsense tone in her voice that causes Cam to involuntarily squirm in his seat. "And I want to hear it now."

"He started it!" Marshall points an accusing finger his way.

"Yeah, that's why I'm the one with the busted nose," he returns, rolling his eyes.

"Bickering will not help your case," she says sternly. "What happened?"

"Marshall was saying inappropriate things, I said something to him, he hit me," Cam explains simply.

"That's not how it happened at all!" he protests. "That's a total lie!"

"Is not," Connor grunts. He sits up a little in his seat and deadpans, "Marshall was saying stuff about girls, Cam said something back to him, he punched him, I got involved. The end."

"What, exactly, was exchanged?"

No one wants to admit what was said, so they stay quiet, staring at the ground. The principal sighs. "Fine. If none of you want to tell me, I'll let that part slide. Cameron, go to class. Marshall, Connor, I'm calling in your guardians. We're going to be having a long talk."

"What?" Marshall demands. "How is he not getting in trouble?"

"You hit him, Connor hit you. Technically, he did not engage in the fight." She makes eye-contact and continues, "Technically. But you are on thin ice. _Very _thin ice, considering your…actions at the auction. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes," he replies quickly, getting to his feet. "Crystal clear. Promise."

He books it to English, knowing that Connor is going to make him pay for this later (no doubt in training for the next five years) but not really caring because he did what he had to do, even if it cost him the ability to breathe normally.

The class just stares at him when he walks through the door, even the teacher, though he's sure that's because of his shirt. Breaking the uncomfortable silence, a girl in the back asks, "So, you stood up to the jerk Marshall?"

"Uh, I guess," he answers stupidly, surprised by her description of the self-proclaimed popular boy.

The girls around the room glance at one another. The one who had questioned him starts to clap, and the others follow.

All he can do is stand there and smile.


	47. Chapter 47

AN: So there's officially a Richard Grayson/Robin tag! Thank you Black Friar!

Disclaimer: Uh, is this canon? No? Oh, well there you go.

Homecoming

"Please, Cam, you have to go!"

He barely glances back at Megan as they, along with Connor, enter the training arena. "I'm not going, Megan. Sorry."

"But you have to!" she insists. "It's part of the high school experience." Addressing Robin and Artemis, the only two so far, she prompts, "Right, guys?"

"What is?" Robin questions.

"Homecoming dance. It's next Saturday, but Cam refuses to go."

"Look, Meg, babe, I love you to pieces, but I'm not going to spend my Saturday night standing by myself watching a bunch of kids I don't know grind for three hours."

"You wouldn't be by yourself! You'd be with us—"

"Until you all go off to dance."

"One of the girls on the squad would go with you."

"A pity date? Really, that's not how I want to start my high school career."

"Okay, fine, I'm sure if you asked someone to go, they'd say yes. You're practically a hero, Cam, after you stood up to Marshall."

"All he did was get punched; I'm the one who actually fought the jerk," Connor grumbles.

Artemis rolls her eyes while Robin cackles; they've heard the story plenty of times in the past week. "Connor, are you still bitter about that?" the archer asks.

"Yes! I got a two-day suspension and have to go to the guidance counselor every other afternoon to work on my "anger issues." I don't have anger issues!"

"Hey, I never told you to attack Marshall! I had everything under control."

"Standing there like a moron with a bloody nose was under control?"

"My plans suck—we've been through this."

"Can we focus on the real problem?" Megan intervenes. "Homecoming, remember?"

"Homecoming?" Raquel, walking in with Zatanna, repeats. "Oh, girl, are you getting your dress? I feel a shopping trip after training, girl, I will drive—"

"I already have a dress," Megan quickly explains, "but I'm trying to get Cam to go."

"Cam! Why aren't you going?"

"No date," Artemis supplies. "And he doesn't want to be that loser."

Cam turns her way and counters, "Whoa, okay, I wouldn't call myself a loser—"

"Can you take someone from another school? I'd go with you."

"Uh, Raquel, aren't you dating Kaldur?"

"Oh, he wouldn't mind. Not if it's with you. You're not a threat."

"Not a threat? Of course I'm a threat!"

Raquel just shakes her head. "Oh, sweetie, no you're not."

Cam just gapes at her, trying to figure out how he is possibly not a threat, while Artemis and Robin laugh at his expense. Zatanna sympathetically pats his shoulder and says, "Look, Cam, you really should go. Do it for all of us whose boyfriends have a secret ID, making it impossible to go any school functions together."

At this, she glares at Robin, who shrugs sheepishly and returns, "I told you you could go with someone else to your dance."

"No, because then I would have to let you take someone to yours, and _that _is just not happening."

"Trouble in paradise," Cam sing-songs.

The ninja glowers. "At least I have a girlfriend."

"You tell him, Rob!" Wally cheers through a mouthful of a cereal bar. "Now why, exactly, are we making fun of him?"

"Megan wants him to go to homecoming, he doesn't want to," Connor says.

"Aw, dude, you have to go! It's fun and a Hell of a lot cheaper than prom. Besides, you don't need a date. Prom, now _that's _when you need a date."

"Thank you, almighty lord of high school," Cam returns. "But I don't want to go alone."

"Alone where?" Kaldur inquires, and Cam mentally face-palms and wonders why they can't all just show up at the same time so one story is told one time only.

"Homecoming dance. Megan wants me to go. I don't."

"Why not, my friend? I'm sure it would be fun."

At this point, everyone starts talking at once, seven different voices overlapping and interjecting and he can't understand what anyone is saying until a cool, unconcerned voice floats above all the others: "I'll go."

He faces Artemis. "You'll go?"

"'Course. If it means this insanity ends. Plus, I think I owe you for polishing all my arrows. But you're buying my ticket."

All talk of the dance ends after that, and it's generally forgotten until Thursday night, when Dinah walks into his room and happens to notice the two tickets on his desk. What follows is a mad-dash to get a suit and those flower things, and no matter how many times he points out that at least he bought the tickets, she always returns that there's a dress code and he wouldn't have gotten in anyway. Still, from the smile playing on her lips the whole time, he knows she's excited that he's going.

Half an hour before the dance, him, Connor, and Megan are standing around the living room with Dinah, J'onn, and Clark, waiting for Artemis. Cam is acting calm, cool, and collected, but he's freaking out on the inside. The only dance he's ever been to was the end of sixth grade, when boys stayed on one side and girls stayed on the other for the first half, when he danced with only one girl for one song and was practically shaking the whole time. And maybe he's older now, but he's still nervous as Hell, and besides, this is _Artemis_, the girl he loves…

Artemis finally arrives, along with her mom and Ollie. She's wearing this knee-length, light red dress, with her hair cascading down her shoulders, and she looks gorgeous, even more than usual, and all he can do is stare, mouth practically open.

"Well, you got something to say?" she demands, all attitude, and he smiles.

"You clean up pretty good. Not as well as me, though, obviously."

She punches him arm lightly, then holds out her hand. "You have the corsage, right?"

"Duh."

As he slips it on, a bright light flashes, and they both groan and turn to Ollie. "You promised!" Artemis whined.

"Hey, one of us has to be the annoying parent, and I guess that's me. So the four of you, together!"

They grudgingly oblige, and after a round of pictures, before they can separate, Cam insists, "Wait, one more. A real one."

"Real one?" Megan repeats.

"Yeah." He takes of his ring and watches his skin flash back to normal. "Real."

Megan smiles and reverts to her green coloring. When Artemis and Connor glance at one another, Cam continues, "Well, Connor needs to look angry…  
The clone growls and shoves him, and in the moment, one more picture is taken.

"Perfect," Ollie says. "Oh, wait, Artemis is rolling her eyes."

"No, that's good. It's a real picture, after all."

Artemis just shakes her head and says, "Alright, let's go. These shoes are flipping killing me."

"Good thing we're walking."

"We're _walking_?!"

"It's ten minutes!"

"Do you see these heels? I'm three inches taller!"

"Huh, gee, you're still shorter than me."

With a growl, she marches towards the exit, pausing just long enough to kiss her mom good-bye and give Ollie a hug. Megan and Connor say good-bye to their respective guardians, and Dinah pulls Cam into an embrace, murmuring, "Just have fun tonight, okay?"

"I will," he promises.

"And be good to Artemis," Ollie adds. "And don't do anything stupid."

He snaps his fingers. "Oh, darn. There goes my plan to smuggle in Captain Jack."

"Captain Jack? You mean Captain Morgan?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah."

Paula and Ollie share a look before Paula says, "You're a good boy. Go have fun."

He rushes to catch up with the others before engaging on what Artemis calls "the long march." They get to school just a little past seven, but kids are already crammed into the auditorium , dancing way too close to music that's way too loud. Artemis and Megan have barely kicked off their shoes when girls from the squad, with their magical girl vision, spot Megan from across the floor and speed over. They ooh and ahh over Megan's dress, then turn on Artemis and do the same, plus bombarding her with questions about who she is and what school she goes to and if she and Cam are dating. Artemis blinks a lot and struggles to answer them all, but thankfully, the girls' boyfriends tug them back onto the floor. Megan and Connor immediately follow, and, after a moment, Cam gently takes Artemis's wrist and finds an open spot. They don't grind, just kind of awkwardly sway to the music, but he tells her stupid jokes and sporadically bursts into random dancing, and the way she laughs makes the night amazing.

Ten o'clock rolls around too quickly, and as Artemis is searching through the pile of heels, she grumbles, "God, I have to do this again?"

"You can walk without shoes."

"Uh, no thank you."

Outside, after Megan parts with her friends and they're heading for the Cave, he drops a little and says, "Get on."

He knows she must hate those heels because she immediately slings her arms around his neck and wraps her legs around his waist, murmuring, "Thank you, Cam. Your room tonight?"

"Of course."

And when she walks in, wearing a borrowed shirt and pair of sweatpants, no makeup on her face and her hair in a loose, messy ponytail, she looks even more beautiful than before.

"I had a really good time," she tells him, laying beside him, head right underneath his chin. "Thank you."

"No one I would rather go with," he returns. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem, Frostbite."

It would be the perfect time to kiss her, right on the lips, admit that he loves her. But no matter how much his heart twists and pounds and _aches_ within him, he doesn't. He can't. So instead he just smiles and rolls over to turn off the light. "Good night, Rapunzel."


	48. Chapter 48

Disclaimer: No.

Shipping

"You know, Wally and Robin would make a really cute couple."

Of all the things Cam has ever heard Raquel say, this is the one that takes everything to a whole new level. Blurted out while they're lounging in the living room after training, it immediately gets everyone's attention. Wally practically gets whiplash from turning so quickly, and Robin tumbles from his seat, accidently dragging Zatanna with him.

"_What_?" Wally squawks. "That, that, that…What?!"

"Uh, Raquel, where did that come from, exactly?" Zatanna asks, eyes trained on her boyfriend's crimson face.

"See, me and my friends were settin' up random people in the hallway, you know, based on how cute they would be together, and then Lindsey's like, 'Well, there'd be more couples to make if we matched boys with boys too,' and she was _so right_. So we started doing that, too, and I don't know, Robin and Wally just have this thing about them."

"Friendship?" Cam offered.

"Well, duh, but just _look _at them and tell me they wouldn't be a cute couple."

All eyes turn toward the two boys. Connor and Kaldur just do a quick cursory glance before finding the random Spanish soap opera to be more interesting. Cam pretends to scrutinize the situation, if only to placate Raquel—he couldn't set up a cute couple, gay or straight, if he wanted to—but he notices that Megan, Zatanna, and Artemis seem interested in the affair.

"I can see it," Artemis finally says.

"Me, too," Megan agrees.

Both boys are genuinely dumbfounded, blinking rapidly and stammering something incoherent. Cam leans back in his seat and enjoys the scene while Zatanna adds, "If Robin had to break up with me for anyone, I wouldn't mind if it were Wally."

Artemis claps her hand over her face, and Cam bursts out laughing. Robin squeaks, "Zee!"

"I'm not saying that you would," she quickly amends. "And I'm not saying that I want you to break up with me. I'm just saying you guys would look cute together."

"Okay, can we please change topics now?" Wally pleads. "This is just weird."

"What? You need to embrace your bromance," Cam insists with a smirk. "Accept who you are, Wallace. Deny it no longer!"

The speedster glares and grumbles, "If I remember correctly, you and Connor had your own bromance in Belle Reve."

"Oh my God! Connor and Cam would be such a great couple!" Raquel squeals.

Megan lets out this small mixture between a laugh and a cough, but Connor turns his head real slow, like that girl from the exorcist. Realizing this opportunity is too good to pass up, Cam jumps right into it. "What you think about that, big boy? You man enough to handle me?"

The clone glowers, and it's a really good thing he doesn't have heat vision. "I could snap you like a twig."

And Cam knows perfectly well that Connor had no intentions of that sentence having sexual undertones, but his dirty mind latches on and won't let go. "Oh, so you like it rough? Guess I'd just have to be on top, then."

The comment takes a split second to process, but when it does, everyone except Connor, Kaldur, and Megan are bursting out laughing, and Cam's pretty sure that Kaldur's only staying quiet because he's trying to be the mature leader and that Megan just doesn't understand what he meant. Connor, stone-faced, returns, "What was that comment you made about guys with big talk? So I'm not too sure that would work out real well, _Junior_."

Connor has never retaliated in such a manner before—he's still better with his fists than with his words—and Cam finds it too hilarious to even be mad. All he can do is smile and reply, "Well-played. Well-played indeed."

Megan glances between them in confusion. "What—?"

"You know, I could see Kaldur and Connor together," Artemis says, and from the serious tone in her voice and the slight squint of her eyes, Cam realizes the statement is more than just a distraction technique.

Kaldur's gills flare in distress, and Zatanna glances at Raquel. "Still glad you brought this up?"

"Actually, yeah. I can totally see it, too. Oh, that would be adorable!"

The magician shakes her head in concern while Kaldur, flustered beyond belief, attempts to get a handle on the situation. Wally makes it no better by suddenly adding, "Roy! Him and Roy!"

Robin sends him the most perplexed look even with sunglasses on, but the girls only nod in agreement. If possible, Kaldur blushes even more, and Cam, knowing he'll never get another chance, casually prompts, "Who would be on top?"

Robin and Wally collapse to the floor in a fit of hysterics, and Kaldur sends Cam a look that says, "I'm totally kicking your ass next week in combat." It's worth it, though, when Artemis says, "Roy," just as Zatanna says, "Kaldur."

"Roy?" Raquel demands, glaring at the blonde. "What do you mean, Roy?"

"Have you met him? He has such a controlling personality. Besides, he's an archer."

"So?"

"So he's good with his hands."

Cam beams, never so proud to be best friends with her. Kaldur gaps in shock, and Zatanna is laughing so hard that she's crying. Megan looks completely lost and turns for clarification to Raquel, who only pats her hand gently and replies, "Trust me, honey, it's better if you don't know."

There is such utter chaos that no one seems to notice that Wally has snuck off until they hear, "Hey, Roy, you have to come over right now! No, seriously, dude, it's a big deal. No, seriously, you have to come to the Cave. Alright, alright, bye."

When he hangs up the phone, Robin warns, "Wally, he is totally going to kill you when he gets here. Better yet, how are you even going to bring this up?"

"I'll figure it out."

Apparently, five minutes is not enough time for him because he says nothing to Roy stomping through the entrance and stays silence even after the Leaguer demands, "Okay, what's up?"

Cam, bearing the burden of responsibility, asks, "If you and Kaldur were in a relationship, would you be on top or would he?"

There isn't even a shocked phase—he jumps straight to annoyed. "Are you still in therapy with Dinah? Because I think you should be."

He raises his hands in defense. "Hey! Raquel was the one who made this whole conversation start! And Wally was the one who put you two together! And Artemis is the one who thought you'd be on top! So don't even look at me like I'm the crazy one."

Roy lets that sink in. "The Hell is wrong with all of you?" He turns and starts to leave, but then pauses, as though thinking. Finally, he says, "I'd be on top."

Kaldur jumps to his feet. "One moment, my friend. I think you should reconsider that."

The ginger just raises an eyebrow. "C'mon, Kaldur, let's be real."

A sixth sense tingling, Cam knows this is going to turn into a full-fledged argument, so he does what any mature, responsible person would do.

The Team really enjoys the popcorn while they watch the show.

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First and foremost, thank you to all our soldiers, past and present, for fighting for our freedom.

Yes, fluffy chapter. Consider it a cushion for the next one.

Worried now, aren't you?


	49. Chapter 49

Disclaimer: Nope.

Death

The missions that start out simple always turn out to be the worst.

Like the one right now. They're just supposed to stop a couple of up-and-coming meta-villains. No biggie, not compared to the people they've faced before, and first few minutes into the fight, it seems like an easy victory. All Hell breaks loose, though, when two unaccounted enemies crash the scene, and one just has to be a pyrokinetic. An apartment building is sent into flames, and half the Team has to take care of that while the other half goes after the now fleeing villains.

_How are things on your end? _Miss Martian asks his group.

_We are faring well enough_, Aqualad replies, water whips fighting back the flames. _On your end?_

_We got this under control_, Kid Flash insists. _We'll be back to help in ten minutes, tops_.

"Get back!" Artemis shouts, sprinting out, narrowly dodging a falling beam. "The heat's too intense, I don't think we can get back in."

"Everyone's out, right?" Robin faces the civilians, huddled together, eyes never leaving the burning building. "Is everyone accounted for?"

"Not my son," one woman protests, tears already tracing through the soot on her face. "Please, he, he must still be in there. You have to save him. Please."

_Who has the best chance? _Robin questions.

_I could try_, Aqualad offers.

_That's too risky and you know it. You wouldn't stand the temperature, _Artemis protests.

_But you and Robin would be in just as much jeopardy. Our best options would be Kid Flash or Superboy._

_There's no time! _Ice objects as the flames flare suddenly. _I'm going in._

Their protests ringing in his ears, he reenters. Wave after wave of heat bombard him, and he has to amp up his ice armor every few seconds. This is stupid and dangerous but he has no other option. He will not lose another civilian.

_The kid's name is Ryan_, Robin explains. _Should be on the third floor. He's seven. Fire department's on the way, Aqualad and Artemis are still trying to beat back the fire, but it's only getting stronger. Get out as soon as you can, alright?_

_No sweat. Ha! Get it?_

He may be acting calm and collected, but truthfully, he's terrified. It's taking more energy than anticipated to keep himself protected, and the infrastructure is practically crumbling around him. By the time he makes it to the third floor, there's so much smoke he can barely see.

"Ryan!" he shouts. "Ryan! It's Ice! Please, Ryan, answer!"

Crackling of heat.

"Please answer! I want to help you!"

"I-Ice?"

It's timid and barely audible, but Cam still breathes a sigh of relief.

"Speak louder!"

"Ice. Ice. Ice!"

Entering a room on his left, Cam spots a trembling boy cowering beneath a bed. On his knees, arms outstretched, he pleads, "Come here, okay? I'm going to get you outside, okay?"

Ryan doesn't move for a moment, but a roar from the blaze prompts him to run toward the hero. There's no time to celebrate, though, because the roof starts caving in, and it's no minor miracle that Cam manages to throw up an ice shield. Adding layer after layer, he forces himself to smile. "Hey, kid. You okay?"

He nods but whispers, "I want my mommy."

"I know, buddy. Soon, I promise. I just gotta wait until the fire lets up a little."

_Guys, I'm in major trouble. Stuck in the room, ice shield barely holding up. Any backup?_

_Hang on a little longer, _Aqualad advises. _Fire department will be sending in help._

_How long? _A piece of ash glides into their enclosure, and Cam doubles his efforts. _Seriously, I can't do this forever._

"Ice, I'm scared."

"I know, buddy. But it'll be alright, I swear. When we're out, you'll get to meet my Team. Kid Flash and Rocket and Robin and all the others. You'd like that?"

_Ice, status_.

_Not any better. Hurry._

"Uh-ha."

"And I bet I'd be able to introduce you to the Justice League, too. Who's your favorite? You gotta have a favorite."

His coating is dripping off of him, and he's swaying on his feet from the effort of maintaining both the armor and the fortress. _Please, please tell me someone's coming._

"I like Batman. And Black Canary."

_Firefighters just got in! _Artemis practically screams. _Just, just stay calm._

That's when the floor starts creaking and splintering underneath himand he knows it's too late, that help won't get there in time, so he abandons his armor and wraps Ryan in his arms and cuts the mind link (because he doesn't want them to hear this, they can't, God, they can't) and starts to tumble, spinning and twirling, down, down, down, and there's screaming but he can't tell who's doing it and then…

He's floating. There's no other way to describe it. There's grey mist all around him, nothing else, and no matter how hard he searches for something to grasp, there's nothing. It's not a bad feeling, this sensation. Actually, it's kind of peaceful. He's more than willing, though, to trade peace for reality, but no matter how many times he blinks, he doesn't wake up (because this must be a dream, this has to be a dream, if it weren't there'd be more than grey mist, there'd have to be more).

He floats for a minute. An hour. A millennia. He can't tell. Time passes slowly and quickly and not at all. He gives up on waking up—it's one of those dreams that must have to go to completion or something. That must be it.

Suddenly there's a bright, brilliant light, and it's pretty and golden and beckoning him, and he starts for it. In the background, white noise, is this shrill shrieking, but it's nothing compared to the beautiful wonderful light, so he ignores it. What he can't ignore is screaming, so many voice woven together. He can't make out their words, but there's desperation and fear and helplessness, and he can't just leave, he can't, so he claws his way through the air, away from the light.

He drifts into a hospital room, one that a doctor and two nurses are leaving. The Team, plus Roy, Dinah, and Billy, are crowded around the bed, staring at him. His body.

Panic sets in, and he flies over to it, tries to get inside. As soon as he even touches the flesh, this aching, burning pain runs through him. He has no choice but to back away. He tries blinking himself into reality again (because it's a dream, a dream, a dream), but it still doesn't work.

The world continues. The League visits. His dad arrives. Artemis and Billy take turns lying besides him. Dinah doesn't stop drinking coffee. Teammates come and go. Zatanna prays. His _dad _prays (and now he knows for sure this is a dream). He tries to enter his body, again and again and again. He can't. His friends talk—their mouths are moving—but he can't hear one word. He screams. Silence.

He floats, a balloon let go by a young child, around the room, the hallway, the city, the world. Whenever he returns, he's convinced the pain will stop. It doesn't.

He keeps traveling.

Finally, after a hundred million lifetimes, he hears something. Artemis.

"Remember when we were kids, Cam?" she whispers, hand on his cheek. "When we let that lady go because she told us about her kids? You took a beating for me. And, and you _smiled _during it, to let me know you were okay. You did that five more times, Cam, took all that pain for me. You're my hero, and I never got to thank you for it. So please, please come back. I want to thank you. I want to hug you and laugh with you and grow up with you—because we're still kids, right? Teen is still kid, no matter what the law says. We never really got to be kids before, so let's do it now. Please, Cam, please."

He could never say no to her.

Steeling his nerve, he approaches his body and closes his eyes and places his hands on the limp form and thinks of waking up, waking up, they need him to wake up…

There's no pain this time.

His eyes open slowly.

"Cam?" There's complete disbelief in Artemis's voice, as though she doesn't dare believe. "Cam?"

"Hey…Artemis," he manages, cracking a smile.

"Oh my God! You're awake!" And her arms are around his neck, squeezing him so tight. "Thank God, oh, thank _God_."

Billy is beside him in an instant, and then Zatanna and Robin have wormed their way into an open space, and the others are cramming around him, everyone talking at once, and all he can do is lie there and relish in the fact that everything is normal.

"You're okay, Cam?" Dinah asks gently. Billy moves to make room, and Cam eases himself into a sitting position. His mentor pulls him into a hug. "Tell me you're okay."

"I'm okay. Sore. Really sore, actually. How…" Reality crushes him as the memories come rushing back. "That boy, Ryan, did—?"

"You saved him," she promises. "Didn't have a scratch on him."

"Pretty impressive for a newbie," Roy adds.

"Newbie? Been at this for a while now, Red. Pretty soon I'm gonna be the top hero in Star City."

"Keep dreaming, kid."

"Cam?" Billy looks at him with large, watery eyes, and he pulls one arm from Dinah's embrace so that Billy can fit, too. "Cam, I was scared. I thought… I thought…"

"Don't worry about it, little dude," Cam protests softly. "I'm back and better than ever. It'll take more than a little fire to keep me down."

"Little fire?" Raquel repeats. "Shoot, that thing was terrifying!"

"You weren't even there," Zatanna objects.

"Uh, I saw enough before going after the Goon Squad, thank you very much."

"Wimp," Cam offers teasingly.

"When it comes to fire, you bet I am."

"That's why we got Cam," Wally says. "Big, tough man like him? Psh, ain't afraid of nothing. Collapsing buildings, raging fires, all in a day's work. Why do we even need a Superboy?"

Connor rolls his eyes at that but smiles when he looks at Cam. "Glad you're back."

"You really think I was going anywhere? Please, you guys would be lost without me."

"No doubt, my friend," Kaldur replies. "No doubt at all."

There's a cough from behind the crowd, and his friends part. His dad steps forward, in his Reve uniform and collar but no handcuffs, and he looks so old. It's strange, in a way, because Cam has never thought of his dad as _old_, even though he's biologically eighty-six and physiologically fifty-six.

"Can I speak to my son alone?" He says it to the ground, as though he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that he's with a roomful of enemies.

A few cautious, unconvinced looks are sent around. Dinah finally relents, "Okay."

One by one they leave, parting with gentle words and promises to return soon, until it's just him and his dad. He expects his dad to say something, but when he doesn't, Cam takes the initiative. "So, they let you outta Belle Reve for this?"

Darkness crosses the older man's face, and he practically snarls, "Don't you dare be making jokes, Cameron! This is not something to joke about!"

He presses himself against the pillow. "Sorry," he whispers.

Joar sighs loudly and runs his fingers through his hair. Dropping into an open chair, he murmurs, "You know how long you've been out? Five days. I've spent the past five days wondering if I'd ever get to talk to you again."

"Dad, I'm fine—"

"But you weren't! You damn near broke your back in two places. You have a punctured lung and internal blooding. And if you had landed at any other angle, you probably would have busted your skull open. And I've been stuck in this fricking place, with the Justice League asking me how I am, all sorry and pitying and I _hate _it but I can't even tell them to shut the Hell up because I'm too busy staring at you lying like a corpse! Getting out of the life was supposed to keep you safe, Cameron. I'm not supposed to be thinking about funeral arrangements for you!"

For a brief instant, Cam is convinced he's about to get slapped, but what happens next is much more of a surprise: his dad hugs him. And it's not one of those quick, one-armed hugs he'd get after a rough day or a beating; it's genuine, like something he'd get from Artemis and Dinah.

"I prayed," he continues, quieter now. "First time in my whole fricking life, I prayed. Told God that He gave me you and that He couldn't take you from me, not like this."

"I don't think that's how praying works, Dad."

"It was the best He was going to get." After a moment, he adds, "I made Him a deal. So…I'm sorry. For raising you the way I did. For putting you through those punishments. For everything."

And only now does Cam understand how close he truly was to dying because his dad has never apologized before, to him or anyone else, and he would never do so unless the situation was this serious. He can barely breathe, and a sob catches in his throat. "I could've died, I almost died, I almost…"

"But you didn't," Joar interrupts quickly, tightening his grip. "You didn't and you're fine and you're going to stay fine, okay? 'Cause you ever do anything like this again, I'll kick your ass, eighteen or not. Understand?"

"Understand."

They settle into a comfortable silence.

"I'm real proud of you, kid. Don't forget that."

"I won't."

Joar murmurs something into Cam's hair; Cam murmurs something into his father's chest.

Though no outside observer would understand, each knew that the other had said _I love you_.

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I was originally going to call this chapter "Near Death," but I decided against it because, you know, the drama. Did it work?


	50. Chapter 50

AN: Just call me Santa, because Christmas is here early.

Disclaimer: Let me think. Oh, right, no.

Revelation

It's his first day back at the Cave since the accident. According to the doctors, he was incredibly lucky—he avoided any broken bones, and, since the firefighters were already inside the building when the top floors collapsed, they managed to get him out before he suffered any serious burns. Still, it's taken three weeks for him to return to almost normal, the slight ache in his back the only reminder of his brush with death.

The Team is having a party for him, a big celebration to "welcome him back to the world of the living," as Wally can't stop saying. There's an entire supermarket of junk food and a stack of video games that aren't even on sale yet, plus music blaring and constant stories of what he's missed. What isn't there, though, is Artemis. She's there physically, but mentally, it's like she's a thousand miles away. She smiles at him whenever he looks her way, and she'd greeted him with her usual hug, but she's staying back, on the fringe, and he doesn't understand why.

Of all his teammates, she was the one who had visited him the most often, coming to the hospital right after school and staying until visiting hours where over. Every physical therapy, she was there, encouraging him all the way. She'd bring over homework and helped him through it—Megan had dutifully picked up everything while he was on his "emergency trip back home." Hell, she even risked losing her phone by texting him twice during each school day, just to see how he was doing.

And now she can barely even look at him.

He doesn't know what he did wrong, what he could have done to make her mad like this. Part of him wants to apology, but he's afraid that'll just make it worse since he's not sure for what he's actually apologizing. Instead, he just sucks it up, pretends there isn't this throbbing pain in his chest, and tries to enjoy himself.

By one in the morning, everyone has finally decided to head home, and after all the good-byes are said, he goes to his room. In the midst of changing, a sixth sense goes off in the back of his mind, and he turns toward his open door. Artemis is leaning against the frame, eyes flickering between him and the floor.

"Jeez! Wanna knock?" he jokes.

She doesn't respond.

"Hey, I'm just kidding," he promises, throwing a t-shirt over his head. "You've seen me shirtless before—I don't care."

"I need to talk to you." Her whole focus is him. "I really need to talk to you."

"About what?" he asks. It sounds small and choked, but he doesn't even care, he can't, because this is never a good way for a conversation to start.

"You've been my best friend for years and we've always had each other's backs and you've always protected me and I, I want to thank you for that—I've always wanted to thank you, for everything you've ever done, but I never knew how to bring it up and then you were in the _hospital _and I didn't know if I'd ever get to talk to you again so, so thank you." The rush of words is said in a single breath, and she barely inhales before continuing. "And I know you don't like all this sappy stuff because you don't think what you do is a big deal, but it _is_. You put everyone before yourself and you don't even realize it, and you're brave, and selfless, and kind…"

"Artemis, where's this all coming from? Not that I don't love the compliments or anything."

"I thought you were going to die," she whispers, her fingers playing with the loose thread on the bottom of her shirt. "I thought…I thought I was going to lose you, with all these things left unsaid, and, _God_. It was one of the worst, most painful things, watching you like that, never knowing if I'd hear you laugh, never knowing if you'd ever hug me again, never knowing if my hero would be there for me. And, and that's when I realized…" A deep sigh. "I like you, Cam. More than just a friend. I want…I want to be more than just friends."

At first, he doesn't believe it. He can't, not after all these years of pining after her, and all he can do is stare at her, brain working too quickly, struggling to comprehend and respond and express everything he feels.

The seconds tick away, and Artemis's face contorts slightly. "This was stupid," Artemis mumbles, retreating. "I'm sorry, Cam, this was so dumb of me."

And only when she's out of his room does he realize that she had just given him the perfect opportunity to tell her how he's always felt and he _let it slip through his fingers_.

"Wait!" he shouts, sprinting into the hallway, not even caring how late it is. She pauses, and he catches up with her and snags her by the wrist. "I, I like you too."

"Cam, you don't have to do this. If you don't feel the same way—"

"I do," he promises. "I always have."

"Always?"

"Since we first met," he admits. "The first day I saw you, I just, I just knew."

"You never told me." It's not a question.

"I couldn't. Not when we were kids, with our dads around all the time. Not…not when I saw you again. And then you were with Wally…"

"After that," she offers softly. "You could have told me then."

He just shakes his head. "I thought it would be insensitive, right after you guys broke up. Besides, I never figured you'd feel the same way. I mean, you're amazing, and brave, and perfect, and, and you're so out of my league I thought it was ridiculous even—"

"Shut up, Frostbite," she instructs, leaning forward a bit and touching a finger to his lips. "Just shut the Hell up." [1]

And she gets on her tiptoes so they're face to face, and then her lips are against his, soft and gentle, and he kisses her back, arms wrapping around her, feeling happier than he ever thought possible.

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[1]= Taken from the comics

Call me a carpenter 'cause my ship floats!


	51. Chapter 51

AN: Who has _Man of Steel _midnight premiere tickets? This girl!

Disclaimer: And still no.

Date

He's pacing back and forth in his room, glancing at himself in the mirror to triple check how he looks, flipping through his pocketful of money and wondering if it'll be enough. A turn toward the clock extracts a groan: he still has ten minutes before he's supposed to get Artemis.

It's his first date with her, and he is more nervous than he has ever been in his life, more so than facing Batman and Green Arrow for the first time when he was switching sides, more so than when he faced the entire League. They may have been best friends since they were kids, but they've only been dating for a week, officially, and all the texts and calls back and forth don't truly equate to a date. He wants everything to be perfect, so he can prove to her (and maybe himself) that he's worthy of being her boyfriend.

Five to six, he starts for the zeta-beam, reminding himself that he can't forget _anything_, not when he has only four authorized trips [1]. Practically done typing in Gotham, he remembers that he forgot the flowers, so he makes a mad sprint for the kitchen to retrieve the prize. A deep breath to calm himself and he's on his way again.

"Hello, Cameron," Paula greets him with a smile.

"H-hi," he stammers stupidly before hastily thrusting the flowers toward her. "Here."

"Well, aren't you just the sweetest thing? Let me go get a vase for these." She starts rolling down the hall, calling, "Artemis, Cam is here!"

The archer steps out of her room, and Cam takes a quick intake of breath at the sight. Her hair is down, a slight curl to it, and she's wearing a tight pair of blue jeans and v-neck teal shirt. And yeah, he's always known that she was gorgeous, but now that it's actually okay to think about her in such a manner, it's like he's seeing her for the first time.

"You look amazing," he manages, trying to stop staring.

She just smirks and kisses his cheek, setting off a rush of butterflies in his stomach. "You don't look so bad yourself, Frostbite."

"I am assuming you're going to Happy Harbor for the date?" her mom asks from the other room.

"Yes."

"Alright." Leaving the kitchen, she comes into the hallway. "Home by eleven at the latest, okay?"

"Earlier," Cam blurts.

Artemis rolls her eyes and starts tugging him toward the door. To him, she says, "This is _Mom_, not _Dad_. She already likes you—you don't have to try so hard." Raising her voice, she continues, "We'll be home by eleven, Mom, promise."

"You really don't think I need to try to impress your mom?" he asks in the hallway. "I mean, now that we're dating…"

"Cam, just because we're dating doesn't mean we've pressed a reset button or something. I've known you for years, Mom's known you for months, and you've been at my side through Hell and back. Seriously, nothing has really changed." A mischievous smile spreads across her face before she kisses right behind his ear, eliciting a small shiver of pleasure. "Well, _some _things have changed. Now let's go—I'm starving."

He obliges, reaching for her hand, and the way her fingers intertwine with his is one of the greatest feelings in the world. All these years of waiting, burying his emotions under layers of ice and lame jokes, have been worth it because now he is with her, her _boyfriend_, and there's nothing compared to it.

Dinner's at this nice Mexican place, and everything's well and good until this middle-aged, swanky couple gets the table next to them. They talk business and politics while sending nasty glares toward Cam and Artemis, as though the mere presence of teenagers is enough to ruin their night.

"Who shoved a stick up their asses?" Artemis grumbles after the woman loudly complains of "hooligans."

"Don't know, but I know what'll really piss them off." He grabs his napkin and twists it around and around before holding it up to his face, under his nose. "I mustache you a question," he says in a horrible Spanish accent, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Artemis bursts out laughing, and the man sneers contemptuously. His wife/girlfriend/mistress/whatever harrumphs with disdain and shakes her head. "Hooligans," she mutters for the restaurant to hear.

"Rather be a hooligan than a whore," Artemis returns quietly. It's Cam's turn to laugh.

In spite of the rude couple, dinner goes perfectly, and after Cam pays the bill ("Yes, Artemis, I know you have money, but it's the first date so _please _let me pay"), they head off to an ice cream shop, where they buy two huge, oversized sundaes. Even though Artemis has her own, she keeps taking spoonfuls of his. Finally, he pulls it closer to him, saying, "Hey, you have your own."

"But yours is triple chocolate."

"You could have gotten it!"

"I don't want a lot of it—just some of it."

She goes for another steal, so he quick flicks some whipped cream onto her nose. Mouth opening in shock, she has no time react because he leans over and kisses it off. A slight brush crosses her face, but she recovers and dips her finger in the chocolate syrup. Tracing a small design on his cheek, she mimics his action.

He never knew ice cream could taste so sweet.

They spend the rest of the time at the Cave, in his room. It's like old times, just talking and teasing, but the way her arm is wrapped tightly around her torso and her head is right in the crook of his neck reminds him that it's totally different. Now, for the first time, he's allowed to love her like he's always loved her without feeling the need to hold back and hide his true emotions.

They're in the midst of talking about cheesy horror movies when he notices the time. "Crap! We have ten minutes!"

"Cam, zeta-beams travel at the speed of—"

Him dragging her to her feet stops her explanation, and he all but drags her to the transporter. They get to her apartment with six minutes to spare.

"I guess this is goodnight," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.

"I guess so. Thank you."

"No problem." He glances at his sneakers. "I'll see you tomorrow at training."

"Prepared to get your ass kicked."

"I would expect nothing else."

He turns to go, but her hand finds his shoulder. "You forgot something, Cam."

"I did?"

She kisses him right on the lips, a long, deep kiss. "That," she tells him with a wink before disappearing into her apartment.

He stands there for a few extra moments, feeling light enough to float home.

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[1]= Head cannon is that zeta-beam transport is for "necessary League action only," so unauthorized transport must be given permission from a Leaguer. This is why, in _Comfort_, Wally carries Artemis from city to city instead of using the zeta-tubes.


	52. Chapter 52

AN: High school graduation tomorrow! Summer, here I come!

Disclaimer: And no.

Talk

It's the first time seeing the Team while he and Artemis are a couple, and Cam isn't really sure how it's going to go. He hasn't told anyone, and if it were up to him, no one would know. Not that he _wants _to keep it a secret, but…there's Wally to think about. Even though Wally and Artemis broke up on their own terms, weeks before, and even though Artemis is the one who approached him about a relationship, and even though Wally is his friend, it's still weird and probably some sort of violation of the bro-code.

At soon as Artemis enters the Cave, though, keeping their relationship on the down-low is not going to happen. Right away, she slips her hand into his, and the goofy grin and bubbling warmth he gets from this overpower his desire to play it off as no big deal. They barely step into the arena when the girls start to clap. "The new couple is here!" Zatanna cheers.

"You told them?" Cam whispers to Artemis.

"Of course. You didn't tell any of the guys?"

"Not really."

"But…oh. Right."

They both glance at Wally, who is failing at his attempt to be nonchalant because the slight narrowing of his eyes is far more prominent than the smile on his face. That's the look he gets when he's trying to figure something out, and Cam can only imagine what he's thinking.

"So, when did this happen?" Robin asks.

"After the party," Artemis explains, gently pulling Cam into the circle, between Zatanna and Raquel.

"So once we all left?" Raquel seems insulted. "Girl, this is something you do in front of everyone! It's a big deal! And we have to wait a whole day before you tell us of this massive event? Unbelievable!"

"Hey, you got told a day later?" Connor jumps in. "This is the first time I'm hearing about it."

"Same," Robin and Wally agree simultaneously while Kaldur nods.

"I left telling the guys as Cam's job."

Cam turns to his girlfriend (and he still can't fully process that he's using that word to describe Artemis), shocked at the betrayal. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he tries to explain, "I didn't, you know, think it was _that _important of an event. Nothing truly text-worthy. Besides, I knew that Connor still struggles with the little buttons on his cell phone, and I could only imagine him getting angry while responding, then going on a rampage screaming, 'Connor smash!' and all in all, it just seemed a better plan to tell you in person."

Connor glares but has no time to respond. Zatanna thoughtfully comments, "You know, I kind of sensed this was coming."

And maybe in any other situation, that wouldn't be a big deal, but considering that Artemis had previously been with Wally…well, it's threatening to open up a can of worms Cam would prefer to keep closed.

"As did I," Kaldur adds, in his solemn leader voice, and it sounds much more like a statement of undeniable facts that a mere prediction.

"You did? Huh, I just thought it kinda came out of the blue." He wonders if they hear his voice squeaking.

"There were vibes," Megan says.

It's hard to determine if she means vibes in the abstract sort of sense or literal brainwave sensations that she could read, but either way, it causes Wally to tuck his hand under his chin to further process what's going on.

Thankfully, Dinah walks in at that moment, and training is underway. All discussion of the newest couple ends as rounds of combat practice begin, and Cam thinks he's saved from the topic.

Unfortunately, after everyone has cleaned up, the Team gravitates toward the living room, and him and Artemis are on the hot seat.

"Who approached who?" Megan questions.

"I approached him."

"How was the first date?" Zatanna asks.

"Wait, there was a first date already?" Robin shakes his head. "Cam, seriously, you tell us nothing! I thought we were friends!"

Cam just shrugs sheepishly while Artemis explains, "It was good."

"Just good?" Raquel clicks her tongue. "Cam, Cam, Cam, you are going to have to work on that."

"It was better than good!" he indignantly protests. He turns to Artemis. "Right?"

"It was amazing," she amends, kissing him.

Heat burns his cheek, and he feels that smile crossing his face. Then he remembers that he's talking about his relationship right in front of Wally, who was with Artemis for nine months, who loved her probably as much as he does, and this guilt floods over him. He shouldn't feel guilty because he hasn't done anything wrong (right?), but he can't shake off this nagging emotion.

"Will you two get a room?" Robin demands loudly. "Really, so disgusting, you with your rampant hormones!"

"Oh, you want to play that game, small fry? Last time I checked, you spendhalf your time swapping spit with your own girlfriend! Not to mention those little escapades in your room."

Scarlet stains the acrobat's face, and amidst the snickering of his friends, he stammers, "I, it's not, I'm just showing her stuff on my computer!"

"Oh, that's just disgusting! You are far too young for that!"

"Cam! Ew, you're so gross!"

"Alright, alright, alright, you can play your head games at a later time." Raquel leans back in her chair. "What we all really want to know is how good a kisser he is."

Artemis smirks coyly. "Can't complain."

Cam's chest swells with pride—because Hell, if he waited eighteen years for his first kiss, he _deserves_ to be called a good kisser—but the moment implodes when Raquel presses, "The best you ever had?"

As soon as she says it, she seems to realize the implications because she clamps her hand over her mouth. It's too late, though, and the question lingers like a pestilence in the air. Wally shifts uncomfortably in his chair and stares at the floor. The rest of the Team glances between members, no one sure where this is going. Artemis, after a moment, replies quietly, "He was up there."

It's a compromise answer, but the mood has shifted enough that the conversation changes to school. After a while, the group breaks down, members leaving for various reasons; Artemis is among them, telling Cam that she has to head home for just an hour to help her mom out for something. She leaves in the middle of the pact, so she has no idea that, by the end, only him and Wally are left.

"So…you and Artemis, huh?" Wally asks quietly.

"Yeah."

They both become fascinated in the dust twirling under the lights.

"Did you like her while we were dating?"

Cam winces at the question and contemplates lying—it would be easy enough, and what real harm would come from it? He's a terrible liar, though, and besides, Wally deserves the truth. "Yeah. I mean, I liked her every since we were kids, so when I saw her again…Well, no, not like that. See, um, right away I didn't like her that way, I couldn't, you know, with everything she'd gone through, and I just saw her as a friend, as someone who needed me. But then she got better, and, and everything came rushing back…but you were with her, and I couldn't…I couldn't like her."

"But you did." The statement is said neutrally, without any malice. "You liked her; you can't just turn off that feeling."

He plays with a loose thread on his shirt and avoids answering for a minute. "You're right," he finally murmurs.

"How could you?"

"Look, Wally, I'm sorry, I really am, I didn't want to—"

"No, dude, not like that. I mean…how could you like her like that, care about her like that, and see her with me and not say anything? How could you put yourself through that?"

And now Cam understands that it's not a question of his integrity but of his restraint. "I had to," he explains. "You were her boyfriend, and I respected that. She wanted to be with you, she…she liked you, not me. Besides, you were my friend, and I couldn't do that to you." He pauses. "I would never have broken you two up—that's why I didn't tell her that I liked her until after she told me that first. When I came back into the picture, you were the boy she needed. And I would never mess with that."

Wally thinks that over. When he turns to Cam, he has a small smile on his face. "Well, now _you're_ the boy she needs. And I'm glad you're together. _But _if you hurt her, I swear to, to, to run around you in a circle until I suck away all your oxygen."

Cam snickers. "Dude, that threat was so lame!"

"Hey, I tried! Not all of us have powers that conveniently can be used for the most heinous act on the face of the earth."

"Yeah, I guess that's just another part of my awesomeness." He thinks for a moment. "So we're cool?"

"'Course we're cool. If you make Artemis happy, that's enough for me."

And that, too, is enough for Cam.


	53. Chapter 53

AN: Vacation to Orlando, here I come! As soon as I'm back (Thursday), expect updates every day, every other day, or every two days. Finally time to write. Halleluiah!

Disclaimer: Nope.

Acknowledgement

"What's new with you, Tommy Boy?"

The other teen glances from his comic book and grins. "I gots more comics!" Reaching over to his desk, he holds up a stack of brightly colored pages. "One of the nurse got 'em for me!"

"Aw, sweet dude." Cam takes a seat at the end of the bed, as far away from Tommy as possible—because head injury or not, he raped Artemis, and Cam can't ever forget that—and extends a hand. He flips through the pile and lets out a low whistle. "Spider Man, Wolverine, Captain America. Impressive."

"Yeah, I know! I've already—Tuppy!"

At first, the exclamation is lost on him. That's when a voice from the doorway says, "Hey, Tommy."

Cam whirls around to see the female half of the villainous duo, decked out in Belle Reve orange. She's smiling, but there's something off, like it's stretched too tight.

Tommy practically jumps off the bed and slams into her with a hug. "I miss'd you, Tuppy! It's been forever!"

"It's only been two weeks," she objects gently, but the statement is tinged with sadness, and Cam can only imagine how long two weeks are to the twins.

"How comes you weren't here 'fore now?"

"Some things came up. I'm sorry, Tommy. But look." She reaches into her pocket and takes out a chocolate bar. "Here you go."

"Oh, thanks!" The wrapping is already on the floor and the candy in his mouth.

"Eat slowly; you don't want a belly ache." For the first time, her eyes meet Cam's. "Listen, Tommy, I need to talk to Cameron for a little. We'll be right outside, okay? You'll be good, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

She heads for the hallway, and the hero reluctantly follows. Outside, they assume opposite sides, the space between them a battleground not yet used.

"Why do you visit him?" she finally asks quietly. "I see yer name on the visitor's sheet every week, and he talks about you…why?"

He doesn't know how to answer, how to possibly respond, because nothing he says will appease her. Tommy is in the hospital, a twelve-year-old trapped in a nineteen-year-old's body, confused and scared, and it's because of him. And she, who's spent her whole life beside her brother, can do nothing but visit every so often and try to restore some sense of normalcy. How can he validate anything he's done?

"I…I feel guilty," he manages. "For doing this to him." He pauses, the words stuck. "I put him in this place. It's my fault."

He expects her to agree. To shout. To hit him. Instead, she sighs, one so small and quick he almost misses it, and replies, "You shouldn't be blaming yerself."

"What? But I—"

"I _know_ what you did. And I know what he did." Her nails dig into her palms. "Do you think that just because I'm a villain, or because I'm his sister, I'm okay with him raping someone? 'Cause above all else, I'm a woman, and it still disgusts me to think that my brother could do that."

"I'm sorry." He doesn't know for what he's apologizing, but it seems right.

"He wasn't always like this," she continues, more to herself than to Cam. "When we were kids, he was harmless. Then we discovered our powers and…somethin' changed. _He _changed. Now, I'm not saying I was a saint, but Tommy…he done flipped a switch. All he wanted to do was fight. That strength went to his head. Made him feel invincible. When our parents tried to control how he used them, he up and left. I should've stayed behind but…we were two halves to a whole; I couldn't let him go alone.

"I never figured he could do something like this, not when he had _me_, y'know? He always looked out fer me, took care a me, so how could he ever do something like that? When I heard 'bout what he did to the hero, I didn't believe it. Told people to shut their damn mouths. Then Tommy never got captured, and there were so many people talking 'bout it, and I couldn't pretend anymore."

Cam leans back, studies her face, the creases that make her look so much older. How much must it hurt for her, to see what her brother has become?

"He wasn't always like this," she repeats.

"People change," is all he says, hoping it sounds knowledgeable, understanding. He's gone from traumatized child to villain to hero—yeah, people can definitely change.

"I can't abandon him. Sometimes, I get so angry that I want to—but I can't. He's kin. He needs me." She thinks for a second. "You know about that."

And he does. Because Dad is still Icicle and Crystal is still Killer Frost and yet he continues to visit them. Family is more than blood and genetic similarities; it's love, and compassion, and concern, and even though his childhood was by no means perfect, those things were wrapped up in there, scattered and few but still there.

"I understand."

They're quiet for a moment, musing over the invisible bonds that keep them anchored to those they shouldn't love but do.

"How come you haven't seen Tommy in two weeks?"

Anger crosses her face. "Bastard guard at Reve—Wilcox? Managed to keep his job after that first outbreak. Caught him leering at me, so I flipped him off. Wrote me up for subservience and kept me from seeing Tommy." She bites her lip, and Cam doesn't need to be a Martian to feel the waves of rage emanating from her. "Only good thing's that I'm in the work release program, and the owner of the shop gave me a free chocolate bar when I told him 'bout my sick brother in the hospital. 'Course, I didn't tell him _why _my brother was in the hospital…"

"I'll take to supervisors at Belle Reve," Cam promises. "Get Wilcox fired."

Tuppence offers a wry smile. "Being a hero gets you lots of favors."

"Yeah, well, what can I say?"

She seems about to laugh but does a one-eighty instead. Staring at her nails, she murmurs, "Look, I need you to tell me the truth. I know you hurt Tommy when he was fighting for Kobra, and I know your Team was with you, so…is the reason you did what you did because Tommy was going to rape that girl again?"

He's never disliked being a horrible liar, but at this moment, he would have given anything to look at her and swear that her brother hadn't tried to rape Artemis again. But he can't, so he only nods slowly.

She shakes her head. "God, that bastard," she whispers. "I can't believe he'd do that! He has a sister, damn him!"

"Tuppence, please, it's, it's alright. Artemis is getting better and, and it's over. Don't hold this against him, okay? He's suffering and he needs you."

The blonde tilts her head slightly. "How in the Hell did you last so long as a villain when you like this?"

"Perseverance," he offers. Gesturing to the door, he asks, "Shall we?"

She starts behind him but stops, her hand on his elbow. "You think, if Tommy gets better, he'll be like he were when we were kids? Or like he were before?"

There's a right answer and a wrong answer. He goes for a third option.

"If you're here throughout this, by his side, he'll go back to normal."


	54. Chapter 54

AN: Supreme Court has restored my faith in justice. 'Merica!

Disclaimer: Duh.

Safe

"Hey, Cam, get a move on! Training starts in ten minutes!"

The teen groans at the sound of Robin's voice and attempts to roll out of bed. An "Ouch! Cam, my hair!" follows, and, blinking sleep from his eyes, he realizes that Artemis is beside him.

"Crap!" he yelps, tumbling off the other side of the bed. "You're here! You weren't supposed to stay!"

A sleepover had never been anticipated. Spending half the night talking and cuddling? Totally. Making out? Duh. Having her actually stay over? Nope. Even though they had done this since they were kids, it seems so much more taboo now that they're dating, no matter how innocent it is.

"Whatever, Cam, it's not that big a deal," she objects as she gets to her feet, hands working at her hair in hopes of forming a presentable ponytail. "I just slip to my room and into uniform, and we head off separately to training. Easy as that."

"But if they find out, I'll never live this down!" he objects, back on his feet.

"First of all, _we _would never live this down." She kisses his cheek. "Second of all, no one will know. Promise. Just stay cool."

"Aren't I always?"

She rolls her eyes. "Should have seen that coming," she mutters, heading for the door. "I'll see you there."

The sight that greets them from the hallway is one of an impish, smirking acrobat. "Hey, guys."

"Dude, don't say anything," Cam pleads, all the inappropriate things he'd said about Robin and Zatanna replying in his head. "Nothing happened—you _know _that. Please don't say anything."

"Say anything? Me? Would I really—?" And then he's off, sprinting for the arena.

"Damn little ninja," Artemis growls.

Cam groans. "This sucks."

"Just grin and bear it, Frostbite. Besides, it won't be that bad."

Actually, it is. He's barely stepped into the room before the rest of the Team turns his way, heads shaking and tongues clicking.

"Cam, Cam, Cam," Wally sighs, his arm finding the cryokinetic's shoulders. "I know you're at that time when your brain can only focus on one thing—"

"Shut up," he objects, and the ice that pops along his flesh is enough to make Wally retract. "Nothing happened!"

"Yeah, that's what they all say," Connor returns smugly.

"It is quite…inappropriate conduct," Kaldur adds.

"You guys suck. Nothing happened!"

The girls share a look and a collective, "Umhmmmmmm."

"You're all immature!"

"Oh, gee, look who's talking!" Robin jumps in. "You've been making cracks like these since you joined!"

"_That _was different!"

"How?"

"Uh…I'll get back to you on that."

"Alright, alright, leave him alone." Artemis struts in, wearing a I-dare-you-to-say-anything look. "There's so much blood rushing to his face he's going to die."

"I bet that wasn't where the blood was rushing last night," Robin murmurs.

Cam, if possible, blushes even more, but Artemis is unfazed. "You shouldn't be talking, Boy Blunder," she states, emphasized with a light smack to the back of his head. "I know what _you've _done with Zatanna, and I highly doubt Batman would approve."

The whites of his mask widen. "Zee! You told her that we—"

"I didn't tell her anything!" the magician quickly interrupts. "Not one thing."

The fourteen-year-old seethes at the archer, and Wally maneuvers in-between them. "Now, now, enough of this. Remember, we all came together to embarrass Cam. So let's stick to it: For shame, Cameron, for shame! Allowing your hormones to carry you away like this. What would her mother think? What would _Ollie _think?"

"My mother would not care," Artemis returns, "because she knows Cam is an absolute gentleman. And Ollie wouldn't care either."

"Are you so sure of that?" Connor raises an eyebrow. "Because I know Martian Manhunter would make my mind explode if he even _thought _I did anything with Megan."

"And Icon would not be pleased in the least," Kaldur supplies. "A sacred trust has been broken."

Cam gulps. "You think?"

"Ignore them," Artemis instructs. "They're messing with you. Ollie would not care. Now let it go—Dinah's here."

He can't let it go, though, not with the disappointed gazes sent his way throughout the session, and his mind won't release what Kaldur had said. Nothing happened between him and Artemis, and it's not like this is anything new, but he still feels…guilty? Yeah, that's the best he can describe it. There are new rules that come with this relationship, and he knows her being in his bed, even if all they do is sleep, is not supposed to happen, not this early, anyway. Ollie does trust him—he'd said that when Artemis told the news—but would he if he knew what had happened? And what if he somehow finds out and doesn't trust him anymore and won't let him date Artemis and…

Resolved, Cam is determined to set the record straight. That opportunity comes sooner than later when the Emerald Archer arrives immediately after training ends. "Ready for Watchtower duty?" he asks his girlfriend.

She just smiles and says, "Alright, Team, good work. Hit the showers."

The couple starts to retreat, so before Cam can lose his nerve, he stands. "Uh, um, Ollie, I, I need to tell you something."

"Cam, don't," Artemis hisses amidst the snickering of the boys.

"Last night, uh, well, um, Artemis…she slept in my room. We didn't do anything, I swear! We just slept, that's all. Promise."

Ollie doesn't miss a beat: "Okay."

"Okay?!" Wally explodes, up on his feet. "Okay? That's it? Nothing else?"

"No, not really."

"If _I _had told you that when we were dating, you'd have killed me!"

"I wouldn't have killed you—"

"Uh, you totally would have! You said during my interrogation, and I quote, 'If I even think you are doing anything with Artemis, I will use you for target practice for a month!'"

"Interrogation?" Artemis and Cam repeat.

"It really wasn't so much of an interrogation as a…friendly chat," Ollie objects.

"Friendly? A room with just the two of us with one light and you polishing your arrows is not a chat!"

"Ollie!" Dinah scolds.

"What? You think Augustus [1] and J'onn didn't have discussions with Kaldur and Connor? It's a precautionary measure."

"You didn't have one with me," Cam points out.

Wally's mouth snaps open. "Are you _kidding _me?! You just, you just, you just let him date her?"

"It's different!" Ollie insists. "Cam's safe."

"Safe? What am I, a serial killer?"

"No, it's, I mean…she's known him longer, and I know he won't…try anything."

"And I would?"

Ollie crosses his arms over his chest, and Wally recounts, "Okay, scratch that last part. But _still_, that's not far. Sitting through that interrogation is a testament to our devotion!"

"I think Cam's testament to devotion was turning in an entire prison of the worst criminals in America, if not the world, and becoming a hero after being trained as a villain for years," Raquel offers.

The ginger opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and sits down with a pout. "Still not fair," he mumbles under his breath.

Dinah just shakes her head and tugs on Ollie's arm. "Alright, let's go before we're late."

The Team watches as they leave. After a moment, Cam asks, "So being safe…that's a good thing?"

"Yes, Frostbite." Artemis slips her hand into his and kisses his nose. "It's a great thing."

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[1]= Icon's real name. Fun fact for the day.


	55. Chapter 55

AN: So, I think I have a problem. I can't read any story where Cam does not fit my head cannon because I get angry that it's "not right." Which makes no sense, because my head cannon is an entire back story based on one episode (I like to pretend _Invasion_ doesn't count). But yet I get to a story where Cam's a jerk or something and I'm like, nope, wrong, can't do it. Is that weird?

Disclaimer: Head cannon would be cannon if I owned this show.

Acceptance

There are probably never good times to meet a girlfriend's father. There is, however, a clear-cut _worst time_ to do so, and that is in the middle of a battle between good and evil.

The Shadows have decided, for some inexplicable reason, to launch a full-fledged raid on a governmental lab. As far as Robin could dig up, the facility was establishing the latest in chemical warfare, and apparently, nothing excites the Shadows more than chemical warfare. The Team had been sub-divided, and, either by coincidence or a sense of humor no one knew Aqualad had, Ice and Artemis had been paired. They're on search-and-rescue, getting the employees out as quickly and safely as possible, which is why they are currently the only members not flanked by villains—the others are keeping them well preoccupied.

It's on their third loop around that a voice calls, "Aren't you going to say hello to dear old dad?"

They turn, arrow taunt and icicles ready, as Sportsmaster jumps from the stairway and lands gracefully in front of them.

"Dad," Artemis says, not even dropping her weapon. "Big surprise you'd be in on this."

"Oh, don't be like that—you know you missed me, Baby Girl."

"Yes, I have so missed battling you. Those are such joyous occasions."

"The sarcasm isn't necessary."

"Leave her be." Cheshire appears from one of the rooms on the floor above and mimics her father, landing only a few feet from Ice. Playing absentmindedly with the sais, she adds, "Not in front of the boyfriend, at least. You'll scare him off."

"Boyfriend?" Sportsmaster repeats, turning to the cryokinetic and then back to his youngest. "You're dating Joar's kid?"

"Joar's kid has a name, and you will call him that," Artemis insists defensively, bow dropping to her side in anger. She glares at her sister. "You _had _to bring that up? I can't tell you anything!"

"You told her?" Cam whispers.

"She's my sister. Of course I told her."

"Oh, but I'm left out of this little information?" Sportsmaster interrupts. "That's how you treat the man you raised you?"

"I wouldn't use the word _raised_," Cheshire objects with a sort of hiss to the words. "And _I_, unlike you, actually check up on her."

"What happened to the speedster?" Sportsmaster question, obviously avoiding Cheshire's points.

"You told him that, too?" Artemis demands of his sister. "Jeez, Jade, for someone who doesn't work with him, you sure do blab a lot!"

"I never told him about Kid Flash," Jade protests. "Though I am pleased you dumped that loser."

"It was neutral, he wasn't a loser, and if you didn't tell dad, then who did?"

"Doesn't matter," Sportsmaster cuts in, but Ice can't afford a sigh of relief because the blonde immediately continues, "So, kid, you're dating my daughter?"

"Yes, sir, Mr. Sportsmaster, sir." He feels fourteen again, trying to get permission to take Artemis out on Christmas Eve.

Jade gags and Artemis rolls her eyes, but Sportsmaster just nods approvingly. "Has manners. Good. That other punk didn't."

"I'll be sure to reprimand him for failing to call you _sir_ while you were trying to kill him."

"He could still show some respect. Besides, that doesn't even matter now. What _does _matter is how Cam here treats you." The assassin approaches Cam, who sucks in his breath and straightens his back. "You treat her right? Pay for her meals? Put her first?"

"Yes, sir. All the time, sir."

"You're a teenage boy—you look at other girls?"

"N-no, sir."

"You stammered."

"Because you're terrifying him," Artemis growls, tugging Cam back and stepping in between them. "If you remember, we're supposed to be _fighting, _not chatting!"

"Please, Baby Girl. We were just distraction measures. Besides, your little friends have things covered, I'm sure. Now, where were we?"

"Nowhere," Artemis protests. "This can't happen on a mission."

"Oh, calm down, sis," Jade says. "Cameras have all been disabled. Besides, if he doesn't do this now, he'll just track the kid down and make it an even bigger deal."

"Has he done this with your boyfriend?" the archer demands through clenched teeth.

"Boyfriend? Who the Hell are you dating?" Sportsmaster demands, whirling toward his oldest.

"It shouldn't matter! You lost the right to know anything about my life a long time ago!"

They go back and forth, and Cam just awkwardly watches, not knowing what to do. Artemis, however, sure does, slipping her hand into his and dragging him away. A javelin appearing before them stops that plan.

"Not so fast." Sportsmaster saunters toward the couple. "I'm not through with him."

"Dad—"

"No, Artemis, it's okay," Cam insists, offering a small smile. "I'm okay."

"Good," Sportsmaster says. "Now, do you plan on doing anything with her? And don't even think about lying because I will _know_."

Cam swallows hard and forces himself to maintain eye contact. "I won't ever do anything that she isn't ready for, sir. She calls all the shots."

"So you're a push-over? My daughter needs a strong man."

"I'm not a push-over, sir," he objects, wondering if this is for show or if Sportsmaster's reconsidering his position from months past. "But I won't force her to do anything if she doesn't want to do it. I respect her, all of her. And if I was strong enough to change my life for her and betray five hundred criminals who already wanted to kill me, I think that's strong enough. Sir."

There's a brief pause, followed by, "Good answer, kid."

"Alright, alright, enough of this." Jade takes to his side. "I want to see the real you. Unless, of course, _this_ is the real you."

Cam glances at Artemis, who just shakes her head and mutters, "This is utterly ridiculous. Go on, Cam, I don't think she'll kill you."

It's really not reassuring, but he does drop ice mode. "Hmm," Jade muses, walking a circle around him. "Not bad, not bad. But he's so skinny." She lifts up his arm, lefts it fall. "Scrawny. Do you even feed him?"

"He is a person, not some stray animal," Artemis huffs. "And he's not scrawny, he's compacted."

"Yeah, whatever."

"He has a six-pack," Artemis adds, hands on her hips. "Does _your _boyfriend?"

"Of course. But yours does? Really?" Without hesitance, she lifts up Cam's shirt and inspects. "Huh. He does."

"Jesus, Jade, what are you doing?!" Artemis is blushing even harder than Cam. "You can't, you can't just, ugh! This is so embarrassing."

"He'll have to get use to the family if he wants to become a part of it," Sportsmaster intercedes. "Which, if you're dating my daughter, should be the final goal."

"Hopefully," Cam blurts. He realizes how eager he sounds, and he shrugs sheepishly. "If she'll keep me."

"Hey, you haven't been answering the mind link, and Megan said you were—" Robin, appearing the in the doorway, stops and observes the scene. "Um, should I be concerned?"

Artemis waves her hand dismissively. "No, just your normal father-older sister-boyfriend talk while assassins and heroes are fighting one another."

"Oh. Okay. Well, everything's taken care of. So, I'll tell the Team you'll come down in a bit." He starts retreating. "Have fun."

"Thanks, Robin." She rubs at her temples. "Are we almost through?" she asks after a moment. "Because we need to get going. And this is weirder than _The_ _Twilight Zone_."

"Fine, fine, one more question." Sportsmaster stares him dead in the eyes. "You love her?"

Cam's heart skitters and stops, and he has to tell himself to breathe. He doesn't know what to say because if he says yes Artemis will think he's too clingy but if he says no Sportsmaster will kill him but if he says nothing he'll look like an idiot. There's no way around it, so he goes with the truth: "I think so."

Another approving nod from Sportsmaster. "Good. Now, we'll be going—wouldn't want to hold up the heroes from their oh-so important duties."

The next instant, Jade throws a smoke pellet and the two disappear.

"Wow, they don't call them Shadows from nothing," Cam jokes.

Artemis stays quiet. "Did you mean that?" she finally asks. "That…that you think you love me?"

He looks away. "Yeah."

Her hands slip around his waist, pulls him close so their noses are touching. She murmurs, "Good. Because that was my answer, too."

"Really?"

"Really."

Cam grins and twirls her around. She mashes her lips to his, and Cam never knew being breathless could feel so _amazing._


	56. Chapter 56

AN: Check out my new story _Chaos in Crystal_! Please?

Disclaimer: Uh, no.

Higher T…maybe. Just to be on the safe side.

Learning

There are plenty of things Cam knows nothing about—computers, the importance of Calculus, why it takes girls five hundred hours to get ready, time travel, and so on and such forth. Now that he's started a relationship with Artemis, he has something else to add to the list: relationships.

Well, not exactly. He knows the technical stuff of how to treat her and how to talk to her and how to avoid looking at any other girl no matter what. It's the less technical stuff, the part that's supposed to be fun, that he can't figure out.

Almost two months in, all they've done is kiss on the lips or the cheek. And he has no problem with that at all—he's waited eight years to be with her, so he's okay with just holding hands. Artemis, though, she wants more. He might be dense, but when she pecks at his neck and bats her eyelashes and teasingly says he never initiates, he can take the hint. What he can't do is actually bring himself to do anything.

There are two reasons for his hesitance. The first, and the most obvious, is Terror. After what Artemis went through, Cam is scared of doing something wrong. She might seem to have everything under control, but he knows that just one slip can trigger a flashback. If he somehow screws up, does something to remind her of that night, he'd never forgive himself. The second is his inexperience. At eighteen, this is the first time he's ever been romantically involved with a girl, and honestly, he can't figure out how to do anything. Making out had just been mimicking what she had done; this is uncharted territory, and his brilliant course of action is to simply leave the situation alone.

Tonight, though, Artemis has gotten tired of waiting. They're in his room, lounging on his bed, when she starts kissing his neck. And at first, it's like it's always been, butterfly kisses, but then she's doing it more vigorously, more passionately, and Cam feels like Jell-o, but in a good way, if that makes sense.

He feels Artemis smiling against his skin. "You make the funniest sounds."

"What? Do not!"

"Oh, really?" She kisses right below his ear, a little bite behind it, and he hears himself let out this weird yelp sort of thing. "What do you call that, Frostbite?"

"Not my fault," he mutters embarrassedly, sitting up.

She scans his face, meets his eyes. Slipping her arms around his waist, she murmurs, "I'm sorry, Cam. I wasn't making fun of you—I think they're cute."

"You're just saying that."

"Am not," she promises before resuming gently, and he feels himself go loose and mindless again, and before he realizes it, he's lying down with her straddling him, her hands resting on his hips while her mouth works at his neck.

"You're really good at this," he manages as he entwines his fingers with hers.

"I bet you'd be just as good," she returns sensuously, and it's the sexiest thing he's ever heard.

"I doubt that."

"You won't know until you try."

Artemis stops and stares at him coyly, almost catlike. The trap has been set. Avoiding the issue has become impossible.

"I don't know," he murmurs.

She looks crestfallen. "You don't want to?"

"No! No, of course I want to. I just…I just...I don't know. I've never…I haven't…I don't know what to do."

"Cam, it's easy. Look, I'll teach you." Easing herself off of him, she lies down beside him. "Now, do what I did."

He tries and earns a small grunt. "Cam, you don't actually _sit _on me. Put your weight on your knees."

"Oh. Oh, uh, sorry."

After he readjusts himself, she continues, "Good. Okay, now, just kiss me the way I kissed you."

"But how do I do that?"

"Cam, you know how to kiss. Trust me."

"But…do I…bite you? I mean, I can feel your teeth."

"You nibble."

"Like a rabbit?"

A small sigh escapes her. "Yes, Cam, like a rabbit. Not hard, not with your fangs—"

"I don't have fangs!"

"You know what I mean. Those sharp teeth."

"Canines?"

"Yeah, those. Don't use them. Just use your front teeth."

"What…what if I hurt you? What if you don't like it?"

Her eyes soften. "That's not going to happen," she assures him. "But if it does, I'll just tell you. I won't be angry. I trust you, Cam. It'll be okay."

He swallows a little and nods. After a moment, he kisses her cheek, something he's accustomed to, before tentatively tracing her cheekbone and coming to her neck. Too timid to try right away, he keeps at the pace he's going before finally steeling himself to take the plunge.

She takes a sharp intake of breath, and he immediately pulls back. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Artemis—"

"No, Cam, you were doing fine."

"But you…wait. Was that a happy sound?"

"Yes, yes it was. So _keep doing it_."

"So you liked it?"

"_Yes_. No stop being a tease and do it again."

He smirks and obeys. Just when he gets confident, though, his hands find Artemis's and pins them down by her side. Suddenly stiff, she whispers, "Cam, please move your hands."

Doing as instructed, he contemplates what he did wrong when he notices the distant, faraway look in her eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmurs. "Christ, Artemis, I didn't think…I'm so sorry…"

"It's alright, Cam, really."

"No it's not. I shouldn't have…I should've known not to do that, not when…" He gets up and shoves his hands into his pocket to hide the fists they've become. He was _so stupid_ to do that. How could he forget? How could he do that to her?

"Cam, it's okay. I'm okay. It was an accident." Her chin rests on his shoulder. "C'mon, Cam, please."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are. I'm not mad, okay? Please, I'm not mad." Quieter, she continues, "I knew it was you. And I knew you wouldn't hurt me. You're not him, Cam, and you will never be him." She nudges him, her nose against his cheek. "But you really feel bad, there's a way to make it up to me."

"How?"

That smile again. "Practice makes perfect."

He could never say no to her.


	57. Chapter 57

AN: Happy birthday America!

Disclaimer: Obviously not, for too many reasons to list.

Brother

"Hey, Cam!"

The teen, at his spot at the kitchen table, turns and sees Billy rushing his way. "Hey, little dude," he says with a smile, catching the child in a hug. "What's up?"

"Not much. Are you doing anything today?"

Friday nights have become his official date night, so he returns, "Yeah, I'm going out with Artemis."

Billy's face falters. "Oh."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"It's…I haven't hung out with you for a while. I, I miss you."

And Cam feels his heart twist in his chest. It's not that he hasn't seen Billy—he's been at the Cave most weekends—but he can't remember the last time it was just them.

"I'm sorry, Billy," he murmurs quietly, mentally scolding himself for being oblivious. "Listen, give me a minute, okay?"

Untangling himself, he gets up and walks down the hall a little. Artemis is on his speed dial.

"Hi, Cam."

"Hey. Um, I, I think I have to cancel our date. You can totally kick my ass tomorrow in training, and, and you can drag me to whatever you want for a month, even if I don't want to go, and—"

"Cam, breathe. I'm not mad or anything. Just tell me what came up."

"Billy stopped by. He wanted to do something and I feel bad because I haven't spent as much time with him. Seriously, Artemis, I'm really, really sorry. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Cam, you don't have to make anything up to me," she promises. Her tone is different from normal, the way it gets when they watch a sappy movie or see those _Faith in Humanity: Restored_ posts online. "This is really sweet. We'll hang out tomorrow."  
"You sure you're okay with this?"

"Of course. I have an AP Bio project I should probably start on, anyway. Now go have fun with your shadow."

"Alright. Bye."

"Bye."

He tucks his phone in his pocket and heads back to Billy. "Alright, little dude, what did you have in mind?"

He cheers and jumps off his seat. "There's a fair at my school tonight. We got a blue ribbon or something [1], and the alum…alumni set this up as a reward. So can we go? Please, please, please?"

"Sure we can. If your uncle says it's okay, that is."

Once permission is granted, they're on their way. Billy, because he's so young, is allowed unlimited access the zeta-beam transporter, and Cam already put in four requests for zeta transport because of his date, so leaving is no problem. The walk to Billy's school is pretty short, and when they get there, Cam can only stare in disbelief. Whatever ribbon they won must've been big because the alumni went all out, rides and booths and food, which, better yet, are all free.

"Can we go on the Gravitron?" Billy pleads, tugging on Cam's hand. "Please?"

"Sure."

He's never been on this ride before, and after this, he'll probably never go on again. Roller coasters are no problem for him, but this messes with both his head and his stomach, and he wobbles on his way out.

"Okay, let's try something else," he says, swallowing hard.

"The fun house!"

He's probably too old to enjoy this (he's definitely too tall, having to duck to get through the first door), but racing across the rickety rungs and knocking around the colorful punching bags and making stupid faces at the mirrors is ridiculously fun to him. Maybe it's because he never got to do this when he was young, or maybe it's because he'll always be twelve at heart, but either way, he's laughing as hard as Billy is when they exit.

They scarf down funnel cake and hot dogs before moving onto the Ferris Wheel—Billy had wanted to go on the Merry Mixers right away, but even Cam had enough common sense not to let that happen immediately after eating. Two girls are in front of them in line, and one catches sight of them out of the corner of her eye. She turns full around, a giant smile on her face. "Hi, Billy!"

"H-Hi, Cathy," he squeaks, and Cam grins. That's the same voice he used those first days he hung out with Artemis as a kid, way back when.

"It's so good to see you," she says. She nudges the other girl. "Linda, it's Billy."

Now the three of them are talking and Cam feels a little left out, but seeing how flustered Billy is, he knows he likes this girl, so he doesn't try to force his way in. Finally, Cathy asks, "Are you Billy's brother?"

The sun might be setting, but there's totally enough light to tell what color his skin is. The fact that she doesn't notice, or just doesn't care, reconfirms his belief that the human race is in good hands. Before he can answer, though, Billy jumps in, "Yeah, he's my brother."

Cam stares at him, stunned by how quickly he responded, but there's little time to dwell on it because it's their turn. Each seat holds four, so they all pile in, Cathy right next to Billy. Anyone on the ground can see that boy's smile.

The girls have to go after the ride—dance competition—but they both give Billy a hug (Cathy's is noticeable longer) before leaving. Cam, grinning, ruffles his hair. "So you like her?"

"No! What? You're crazy," Billy objects quickly.

"Yeah, uh-ha, okay."

"Cammmmmm," he whines.

"Okay, okay, fine, I won't say another word." He starts humming, "Sitting in a Tree."

"Cam!" Billy pushes at his arm. "Not funny!"

"Alright, alright, no more, promise."

They hit the Mixers and the Pirate Ship and go three rounds on a mini-roller coaster. Adrenaline rush of the day fulfilled, they snack on ice cream and deep fried Oreos before moving onto the games.

Even though there's nothing for the school to lose, the games are still rigged. Cam watches kid after kid fail to knock down a stack of bottles. Even when adults try, even if they hit it straight on, the tower barely wobbles. When it's his turn, he realizes the ball is too light to make an impact, like the claw at the arcade is too blunt to actually pick up a toy. Against his better judgment, he packs a thin layer of ice around the ball, and the extra weight is just what he needs.

The audience applauds as he gets his prize, and he can hear Billy announcing, "That's _my_ brother."

Ten games, six prizes, and half an hour later, they're walking toward Billy's apartment. Cam knows he should leave well enough alone, but he can't ignore his curiosity. "Hey, Billy, how come you were telling people I was your brother?"

"I don't know, you just kinda feel like one." He stops dead and faces Cam, eyes wide. "Did you not want you to?"

"No, no, that's not it." He wraps an arm around the small shoulders. "I was just wondering, seriously." More quietly, he adds, "I think of you as my brother, too."

He no longer thinks of his mother as his family, but he can't quite forget about his half-brothers, the ones who don't even know they're related. And it hurts sometimes, thinking about them, about the experiences he won't get to share with them, because the Team might be his family but so are they. They're the siblings he never had when he was a kid, the ones he always wanted and the ones he never _stopped _wanting. And just because he saw Billy as his brother didn't mean that Billy saw it the same way.

Now…Cam knows. Someone sees him as a big brother. And it brings the biggest smile to his face.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

[1]= Blue Ribbon School of Excellence. Can elementary schools actually get them? They can now.


End file.
